


Welcome to Ouran HQ Host Club!!

by allu-ria (waffelingaround)



Category: Haikyuu!!, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Agender Character, Comedy, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, OHSHC!!au, Reverse Harem(?), Romantic Comedy, Slow Build, agender akaashi, hosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffelingaround/pseuds/allu-ria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi Keiji lives a modest life.</p><p>Which is a bit of a surprise, considering they go to Ouran High School, a prestigious academy for the rich and socioeconomically high. So of course they, the only "commoner" in the entire school who can't even afford the designated uniform, just so happens to break a vase worth 8 million yen.</p><p>Did they mention the vase belongs to the Ouran High School Host Club? </p><p>(inspired by @euklids on tumblr and her amazing art)</p><p>//TEMPORARY HIATUS//</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From Commoner to Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Akaashi Keiji is too poor for this nonsense, and the host club is too good looking for them to say no

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahah get the title? Ouran HS (high school), Ouran HQ (Haikyuu)
> 
> Yeah I'm bad at titles, please check out [euklids](http://euklids.tumblr.com) on tumblr her art is what inspired this mess
> 
> Disclaimer: this is unbeta-ed so please tell me if there are any mistakes! Especially with the pronouns (I keep writing he/him by accident).

Akaashi Keiji is by no means rich. They live in a simple apartment with their widowed father in Tokyo. Their home life is modest, simple, and filled with just enough food for a meal two or three times a day. Sure, their father sometimes spends more than he should but that doesn't necessarily mean they're struggling to pay their bills.

This comes to a surprise to most people - Keiji does, after all, attend Ouran High School, a prestigious academy for the wealthy and socioeconomically high. The only reason they can afford to attend a place with such expensive tuition is because they earned the title of Honor Student by placing the highest score at the vigorous entrance exam, earning a full scholarship. 

Of course, that doesn't mean the thirty thousand yen uniforms are free as well. Which is why Keiji, in a simple (yet slightly discolored) brown sweater and stained jeans, is wandering the wide hallways of Ouran, looking for a quiet place to study while also trying not to look completely out of place. They brush a strand of too long hair out of their face while huffing impatiently. 

School ended an hour ago yet the classrooms are still filled with chattering students. Keiji closes Library Room #4 in defeat when they find it full of loud, animatedly talking students in blue dapper suits and silk yellow dresses.  _Again._

They fiddle with their fingers as they walk down a different hallway, sighing in annoyance when they see a crowd of students swarming the halls for no apparent reason.  _Do the children of rich people only come to school of for the fun of it?_ At least, that's what it seems like -  _they_ don't have to worry about keeping their scholarship.  _They_ don't have to worry about grades. All that matters to  _them_ is what family their from and how much money they own.

 _Wow, don't you sound bitter,_ Keiji silently notes to themselves. _I guess it'd be rude to assume they're all like that, but still..._

They pause when they pass a large, glass paneled window that looks down to one of the many courtyards of the school. A small, sparkling lake can be seen along with a few neatly trimmed trees. Birds fly overhead and the school bell rings fifteen times in the distance, signaling the time. Keiji decides to look for an empty room for just a bit longer before going home; they don't want to bother their father, who'll probably be with his newest girlfriend/boyfriend. 

It takes a few more minutes of aimless walking, but they finally stumble upon a seemingly unused music room. The door is just as extravagant as the others in the school, being two times their height and decorated with intricate designs. The little plaque hanging from the wall reads  _Music Room #3._ Eager to get their homework done, they smoothly push it open expecting an unlit area with maybe a few musical instruments...

...only to be met with six (rather good looking) men in what's  _definitely_ not the image of a good place to study, much less a music room.

The entire place is commodious, with large satin couches and petite tables, fine china resting on top. Cherry blossoms fly past their face (from seemingly nowhere) as the six in front of them pose. 

"Welcome," they say in perfect unison, and Keiji (a bit alarmed) takes a small precautionary step back. The door closes with a loud  _click_ behind them and the feeling of regret instantly bubbles up their stomach. 

 _Dear mother in heaven,_ Keiji silently thinks to themselves.  _What kind of weird cult did I walk into?_

Of the six, there's only one that sits in a chair. His hair is styled strangely - white with black stripes, gelled up to look like two horns. Or owl ears, they really can't tell. His uniform sleeves are rolled up, revealing thick arms, a clear indicator of being athletically fit. Shockingly gold eyes can over him and Keiji becomes more apprehensive than they already are. 

Next to him, standing languidly over owl-head's shoulders, is someone with yet another strange hair style. Whether it's simple bed hair or it's been styled to look that messy, Keiji has no idea. His body is lithe and his eyes are a dark obsidian, instantly taking him in and calculating. The uniform is put on haphazardly, tie crooked, and Keiji feels the overwhelming urge to fix it.

To the opposite of owl head and bed hair, a man with soft brown locks and wide chocolate eyes flashes a smile, and  _oh,_ Keji's heart flutters involuntarily inside their chest when they make eye contact. They would never admit it out loud, but this person is definitely the best in terms of looks out of the six. The blue suit uniform fits on him well, snugly fitting his body in all the right ways.

Besides him is a tall blonde with amber eyes and black rimmed glasses. His expression is cold (yet somehow smug at the same time) as he looks down at Keiji with an indifferent attitude. His gaze is incriminating, and Keji shudders at the open examination.

If the one with the brown hair was the best looking, then then the one farthest to the left and next to the blonde is definitely the prettiest, with silky silver strands and sparkling eyes. A mole decorates his left cheek perfectly and his smile is radiant. His entire demeanor feels comforting and kind, and Keiji feels the overwhelming urge to tell him all of their secrets.  _He's dangerous,_ Keiji thinks.

The one farthest to the right and next to bed head seems to be smiling, with thick coal colored hair and sapphire like eyes. He isn't even looking at Keiji, instead staring off into the distance, yet they still feel like they're being judged. He gives off one single impression -  _intense._

"Oh, it's a dude," says then blonde one as if disappointed, breaking his pose momentarily. Keiji simply blinks and tries to pry open the door behind them, muttering soft excuses under his breath, only to find it stuck.

 _Just my luck,_ they silently think to themselves, giving up momentarily.

Bed hair scoffs and crosses his arms."Never thought the Honor Student was gay. Or bi. Or whatever he is that's not straight."

"Gay? Bi?" Keiji asks in a voice that's too squeaky. Well, bed hair is only partially wrong but - wait, no, their sexual preferences have nothing to do with the situation. They just need to leave and find a better place to study since... the room is obviously occupied for whatever purposes. "I'm sorry, I think you misunderstood, I was only looking for a place to -"

"Kuroo, don't be rude to our customers!" shouts owl head, cutting of Keiji. "That kind of thing doesn't matter at the Ouran High School host club! Of course, I originally made this club for us _straight men with too much time to entertain straight girls with too much time_ , but we can always change our target audience."

"Dude, none of us are straight. Hell,  _you're_ not even straight," the one named Kuroo says. 

 _"HEY!_ Don't make me look bad in front of customers!" Owl head pouts. "I was trying to be _cool!"_  Bed head  _(Kuroo,_ Keiji reminds themselves.  _It's Kuroo)_ scoffs but owl head ignores him, instead choosing to laugh loudly.

"I formally welcome you to the Ouran High School host club, er... what's your name?"

"Akaashi Keiji, first year, Class 2A," says the flawlessly haired one for them.

Keiji frowns. "You know who I am?"  _That's kinda creepy._

"Well," flawless hair begins. "You're the only commoner in this entire school, Kei-chan. Of course everyone knows about you - for lower class people, you have to have a lot of nerve to try and earn the title of Honor Student."

"I... guess?" Keiji reluctantly agrees even though he really doesn't (but who can say no to that face? Not them, at least for now).  _He just called me a commoner with a lot of nerve._ "And  _please,_ don't call me Kei-chan."

Owl hair lets out another loud laugh, throwing his head back. "Ohoho, Akaashi  - you're like a  _hero!_ You're the top student academically, but you're also rank the lowest in terms of wealth and lineage. It takes true courage and bravery to explore the lands of us higher class people!" Keiji mentally cringes at the reminder and looks down at their clothes from the corner of their eyes, knowing they look even worse than usual (all of their nice sweaters are still in the laundry).  _I'm getting a headache._ "I would teach you our ways to help you understand our culture, but that's not important right now. You came here to our lovely club, so we'll be happy to serve you!"

Keiji sucks in their breath, adjusting their glasses and messy hair in a half hearted attempt to look more presentable. "Like I said, this is all a misunderstanding, I'm not interested in-"

"So, what kind of guys are you interested in?" asks owl head, completely disregarding Keiji's words. "The micheveous type, Kuroo Tetsuro?" At this, bed hair flashes a knowing grin. "Or maybe the princely type, Oikawa Tooru?" Flawless hair waves at him and Keiji's heart tap dances another time. "The smart, sarcastic type, Tsukishima Kei?" Keiji correctly guesses him to be the blonde, who yawns. "The natural type, Sugawara Koushi?"

"Just call me Suga," says the silver haired one. 

"The wild type, Kageyama Tobio?" Owl head continues, undeterred. Turquoise eyes grunts in acknowledgment but doesn't do much else. "Or perhaps, you'd like a taste of me, Bokuto Koutarou, the kingly type?"

Suddenly, Bokuto (he can finally stop calling him owl head) is off his throne and  _in his face,_ golden eyes wide and almost eccentric. Keiji momentarily panics, taking a shaky step back. 

"Uh - no one," they say bluntly. Even Keiji has to admit they're all aesthetically pleasing, but they're not looking to be in a relationship and they don't feel a need to create that illusion. Bowing in apology, Keiji abruptly turns around and attempts to run away as fast as possible before they make themselves look stupid.

What they don't see is the very-expensive looking blue vase that's lying precariously on a pedestal right behind them.  _How the hell did that get there?_ Keiji thinks as they bump right into it.

It happens almost in slow motion - the one named Kageyama outstretches his hand (he must have amazingly fast reflexes), saying "be careful!" The alabaster stand tilts forward, and Keiji extends his fingers in a vain attempt to catch the falling porcelain.

For a second, they  _swear_ the handle is in their grasp, but the next thing they hear is the loud crash of something smashing against the floor. Of the  _vase_ smashing against the floor. 

Their mind goes blank in horrification.  _That did not just... I did not just..._

Oikawa's (a.k.a. flawless hair's) smooth voice snaps him out of it. "Hey, that's the vase that was supposed to be featured for the school auction. How much was the starting bid again?" before anyone can say anything, he answers himself. "Oh right, it was eight million yen."

Keiji swallows thickly, all eyes trained on them. "E-eight million?" they stutter, voice quiet. They're usually quick in mathematical calculations, but in the moment, their brain seems to be malfunctioning.  _Eight million... eight million... how many thousands are in eight million?_ "I'm so sorry," they begin, not sure where to start. "I... can I pay you back?"

It sounds pathetic even in their own ears.

This time, the blonde - named Tsukishima, Keiji remembers - lets out a sharp bark, sneering.  _"You,_ pay eight million? You can't even buy the school uniform, and you're going to pay us eight million yen?"

Keiji scowls, glaring. "I guess I can't, since i'm just a simple  _commoner."_ They take a deep breath, facial expression settling into the usual monotonous gaze after snapping the retort. Keiji usually doesn't get that flustered - or show that he's that flustered - and right now, the meticulous task of controlling what emotions they convey is difficult.  _Damn, why do they all have to be so good looking?_

They all turn to Bokuto, who Keiji can assume is the leader of the host club. He seem stop be deep in thought, most likely considering all the different options of prisons for them (holy shit, they could be  _sued)_ or how much labor equates to eight million yen. 

"Have you ever heard of the saying, 'when in Rome, do as romans do'?" He begins slowly after a minute. "Since you can't pay with money..." Bokuto pauses dramatically before continuing. "... you ought to pay with your body! I officially announce, as leader of the host club, Akaashi Keiji to be our dog!"

_Dog... of the host club?_

Everyone else begins to break out in polite applause (though it actually isn't very polite) and now Keiji really can't help but make a face.

"Think about it this way - better than having to pay us back in eight million yen," offers the one named Suga. 

 _I don't know, being in debt might be better than having to spend every after noon here,_ Keiji sighs internally. 

But Keiji isn't really in the position to complain - in fact, becoming some sort of slave for the next few months is a gracious punishment in comparison to the value of the broken vase, but nobody seems to mind. Keiji thanks the rich for their skewed sense of money. 

The least they can do for breaking such an expensive item is do their best in helping the host club, if if they're all annoying(ly attractive).

After all, it seems that the deal is only for the rest of the school year, which isn't a long time of suffering when put into perspective. It's just one freshman year. 

Nothing  _too_ crazy could happen, right?

__

"AKAAASHI!" Bokuto yells in the incomprehensible way he yells. "Get us more coffee!"

 _I've really become their dog,_ Keiji thinks as they make their way to the exit. It's only been less than a week since the incident, and they still have yet to get used to everything that is the host club (they honestly can't understand the point of having girls fawn over you). On the other hand, all six hosts seem to have warmed up to the idea of someone to do all their menial chores quite warmly.

"Oh, Bokuto-San," they hear one of the girls beside Bokuto say. "I made you some cookies for you to eat..."

"Really? You're the best, Hana-chan! I was getting really hungry!" It's a simple compliment, and only half of the words are pronounced articulately, yet the girls around him swoon and squeal. It's another thing they don't understand - of all six of them, how is  _Bokuto_ the most requested for?

Keiji leaves before he hears anyone say anything else, trying to remember any nearby store has coffee.

Meanwhile, a girl on Bokuto's lap hugs him tightly. "I've heard you've taking in a poor little kitten, Bokuto. Was that him?" Her hair is like soft charcoal, perfectly straight and long, with eyes the color of swiss chocolate. Somehow, the yellow dress on her seems prettier even though everyone is issued the same exact uniform. 

"Oho? You noticed, Izumi-kun? You're so smart!" Bokuto chuckles before leaning in to whisper in her ear. All the other girls around him glare with jealousy. "Though I wouldn't call him a kitten. More like... a baby bird. Sometimes, I think, if he had good enough clothes and a haircut, he could maybe look as cute as you."

Something flashes across Izumi's face, but Bokuto doesn't catch it. "That's very generous for you to say, Bokuto."

"I know, right? I'm the greatest!"

__

Keiji hears someone yell "speak of the devil!" as they enter with bag full of instant coffee. They ran as slow as they could, hoping by the time they got back the loud influx of people would have diminished (they don't particularly enjoy large crowds). Unfortunately, their plan seems to have been a fail - the mass of people hasn't declined since they left.  

"Did 'ya get everything?" Kuroo asks, grinning wth two girls under his outstretched arms. They almost look like snuggling cats, leaning against him while he sits on the couch, eating cake. Suga, who doesn't seem to have any customers at the moment, takes the bag from them. 

The plastic bottles of powder are taken out of the bag with confused expressions. Before Keiji can ask everyone what's wrong, Bokuto is suddenly right next to them. 

"What's that?" he asks loudly, and the entire room suddenly quiets. Keiji, nervous to be put under the spotlight, gulps. 

"It's coffee. Like you asked for," he says while somehow managing to keep a cool composure. 

Tsukishima appears as well, standing over them. "What kind of coffee is that?" the container is taken from Suga's hands. "I've never seen that brand before. Is it pre-ground?"

"No, it's instant," Keiji says, a bit exasperatedly. 

"Instant?" echoes a chorus of girls. 

"OH, like commoners coffee!" Bokuto exclaims, laughing wildly. "Where you only have to add hot water?"

"Commoners don't have enough time to ground their own beans," Kageyama states confidently from his corner of the room. "I've read about it in class."

 _"Kageyama, you're so smart!"_ Someone yells from the crowd. Keiji can't help but roll their eyes.  _This isn't the 1800s anymore._

"Oh, it's only 300 yen for 100 grams? That's quite a deal," Oikawa notes. It's only then when Keiji realizes they're in the center of a crowd, all staring curiously. The attention makes them uncomfortable, and the sudden urge to leave immediately rises up their throat.  

"I'm sorry, I'll go get your  _aristocrat_ coffee beans," Keiji says, swiping the bottle from Tsukishima's hands and stomping away a bit childishly.  _Gotta get out of here, gotta get out of here, gotta get-_

"NO!" Bokuto exclaims, successfully knocking over two chairs and scrambling in order to get to them. "I want to try instant coffee!"

"There's nothing special about it."

"Yeah there is! It's  _instant!"_

A murmur of agreement spreads throughout the room. Relenting, Keiji finally gives the coffee to Bokuto, eager to get the overzealous man away. Bokuto happily skips off with all the girls and some of the hosts trailing behind.

After demonstrating how to prepare instant coffee (Keiji swears the rich are fascinated by the simplest of things), they find themselves alone with Tsukishima and Suga. 

"I don't get it, he's more of a  _stupid_ type than a  _kingly_ type," Keiji mutters under their breath. Next to them, Tsukishima snorts and Suga tries to hide a smile under his hand.

"He's the one who chose our type titles," Tsukishima explains.  _Well, that explains some of the inaccuracy._ Suga lightly smacks both of their heads.

"Be nicer to your senpai! You'd be surprised, Akaashi-san. He can be responsible and a natural leader when he needs to be."

Keiji silently watches as Bokuto downs the hot coffee (the idiot probably became too impatient to wait for it to cool) in one shot. He (of course) spits the liquid out immediately all over Kuroo, who screams. The girls burst out into a panicked frenzy.

 _And they think_ he's _attractive._

"HEY HEY HEY! AKAASHI, DID YOU SEE THAT?" screeches Bokuto from across the room. "INSTANT COFFEE IS REALLY HOT!" Keiji merely sighs and nods in confirmation.  _No really, Bokuto-san. I never knew._

"He must be a handful to take care of... I don't know how anybody can request him more than once," Keiji says, mostly to themselves. 

"Harsh," Suga laughs gently, his tone reprimanding but not disagreeing.

"Tell that to Izumi," Tsukishima grumbles. "She's one of our top customers. And guess who she always requests? Bokuto."

"Is that the girl who was on Bokuto's lap earlier?"

"Yeah. It's disgusting," Tsukishima says.

"Then why do it?" Keiji asks, curiosity getting the better of them. Why would the six of them spend their after school hours like _this?_ Apparently, none of them are straight anyways. So  _why?_

"Why do what?" Suga and Tsukishima say at the same time.

"I mean, why be a host? I don't see a point in any of this..."

Suga smiles, but it reminds Keiji of a sly fox rather than the usual warm sensation they get whenever Suga smiles. "That's a story for another time. Why don't you help Bokuto before he burns himself? That's an order from me, by the way."

"Oh. Uh, alright."

If Suga had been trying to make Keiji more curious, his tactic definitely worked.  The day continues without further incident, but Keiji can't get the question out of their head. It raises even more questions, making them feel confused. 

_Why are the six of them a part of the host club?_

_And what did I get myself into this time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a general outline planned for this fic... let's see how well I follow it.  
> Thank you so much for reading up to his point, this chapter was kind of short so I'll try to make everything longer! (everything should, this chapter is mostly for introductions and stuff.)  
> I put Akaashi as a first year (Same as Tsukishima and Kageyama) and everyone else as a second year because it just made everything easier. 
> 
> If you want to scream at me my tumblr is [@allu-ria](http://allu-ria.tumblr.com)


	2. From Dog to Host

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Akaashi thinks too much for their own good. Everyone is also low-key gay for Akaashi, but that's besides the point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, I'm back with chapter two! I'm sorry for the wait, but I wanted to make sure the chapter was properly revised and edited. That being said, I don't have a beta reader to catch my mistakes, so if there are any errors please just tell me and I'll fix it!

After two and a half weeks of tending to the needy members of the host club, Keiji has a pretty good idea on how the entire club functions. 

First there's Tsukishima and Kageyama, the first year duo. When they're not busy getting into arguments and trying to one-up each other, the two can get things done surprisingly efficiently (not that Keiji would ever say that to their faces; the two detest the idea of working together for some reason). And while being the most productive members of the team is impressive, Keiji would have to say their greatest feat together is pretending to be close friends whenever guests are around. It's a little scary how good they are at acting (no matter how much deny it), and most girls love their pretend relationship.

Then there's Oikawa and Suga, who both are skilled manipulators. It quickly becomes apparent that it isn't Bokuto who's supporting the club, rather it's them who support Bokuto. Decorate the entire room to look like a jungle landscape as an excuse to be shirtless? While Bokuto organized it, it was Oikawa who slipped in a magazine onto Bokuto's desk with a jungle resort cover. Ship in new tea sets from France for the customer's delight? While Bokuto handled the phone calls, it was Suga who casually mentioned that the host club needed more china sets. Every single action that spurs on Bokuto's simple mind - it's all carefully planned out between the two of them. Watching from the sidelines, Keiji feels both in awe and slightly worried. If it weren't for them, the entire club would probably be financially failing. 

Lastly, there's Kuroo who's surprisingly intelligent and Bokuto, who's not surprisingly failing a few of his classes (that doesn't necessarily mean Bokuto is stupid, it just means tests and Kuroo work together better than tests and Bokuto). Kuroo is the brain of the club - making sure everyone does their job, checking to see if their tea and coffee supply needs to be restocked, taking care of the math part of financing, and most importantly, handling the guests and finding ways to keep them entertained. And while Bokuto needs the support of everyone around him to lead, the fact that he can inspire everyone with his rambunctious energy still stands. While Kuroo is the mind, he's the _heart,_ pushing everyone to keep going and making sure excitement and fun are being experienced. 

And Keiji? Well, Keiji isn't sure how _they_ belong to the host club as anything more than a dog, how  _they_ contribute to the equation. Sure, they go and buy instant coffee from the convenience store whenever restocking is needed, but how does that do anything beneficial? How does that really help the host club?

If anything, Keiji thinks of themselves as an outsider - someone who doesn't belong. If the host club were a solar system made up of six different host-planets, Keiji is like the stray meteor that has no place in the stars. Each planet is responsible for its own orbit, the gravitational pull of each solar body helping each other grow and flourish. What can they, just another _commoner_ according to them, an insignificant rock in the sky, do in the face of space? Though the six members of the host club are all so different - they somehow make it _work,_ somehow functions as a family. Keiji can't imagine themselves fitting in with them, the _upper class,_ can't imagine being anything more than an extra butter to do all their menial chores.

...which is why they're surprised when Bokuto decides to teach them about being a host and how to properly handle teacups.

"Earth to Akaashi! Are you paying attention?"

Keiji blinks a few times to get a hold of their surroundings. It's only been a quarter hour since all the guests left for the day according to the ornate clock hanging above the entrance, so everyone is still busy cleaning up. Or rather, Suga is busy cleaning up while the others do their own thing. They can see Kuroo reading a book while eating cookies (that were _supposed_ to be saved for the next day), Oikawa adjusting his hair with a comb (even though it looks perfect enough as it is) and Kageyama having some sort of heated debate with Tsukishima (they can hear the words “forks” and “pigs” from the two of them – Keiji doesn’t even want to know what they’re talking about).

So, no one to save them from another one of Bokuto's speeches. Keiji sighs in defeat.

"Sorry, Bokuto-san. I got lost in thought," Keiji answers earnestly. 

Bokuto's expression shifts ever so slightly (from pouting to something unrecognizable) and Keiji doesn't miss it. "What were you thinking about? you seemed upset."

Well, how to explain their insecure thoughts about disrupting the already-stable host club by becoming a member? How to explain that they’re worried they don’t belong because their social status is different?

 _I can’t explain it,_ Keiji thinks as their mind races for a plausible explanation. _This is my problem, not anyone else’s, and I shouldn’t burden Bokuto with my silly fears._

“It’s nothing,” Keiji says instead of the truth, chest prickling with guilt.

"Alright, but if anything or anyone's bothering you, just come talk to your senpai, okay? Try not to zone out again - it worries me," Bokuto says surprisingly earnestly (though still loudly). 

"Thank you for your concern, but there's nothing to worry about, Bokuto-san. I just think a lot as a person," Keiji says, hoping it'll satisfy Bokuto.  _Really, it's not my fault if I noticed that i'm different from everyone here, and I don't fit in, and I'll never really be-_

Keiji manages to stop themselves before they spiral out of control and stop paying attention again. "So what - what were you talking about, Bokuto-san?"

Their tactic to change the subject works, and Bokuto seems to have forgotten the issue of their overthinking tendencies in favor of host-related problems.

“See the cup Akaashi?!” Bokuto exclaims, swinging the mug around wildly (Keiji’s surprised it hasn’t flown off of Bokuto’s volatile grip yet). “While talking to your customers, you gotta put the cup down with your pinky out – do you know why?”

I don’t,” Keiji answers, half out of honestly, half just to humor him.

“Of _course_ you don’t but don’t worry! Your senpai will teach you all about it! You see, your pinky is like a cushion so that when you put down you cup… it’ll be totally quiet!” In demonstration, Bokuto gently places the cup onto the table using his finger.

Surprisingly, it doesn't make any sound except for a soft  _clink._

“That’s very impressive, Bokuto-san,” Keiji says earnestly. They were expecting a noise equal to Bokuto’s voice and energy levels; maybe he _can_ be quiet when he wants.

Though, now doesn’t seem to be a time where he wants to be quiet. “I know right?! You may not know this, but as a host, you have to be elephant and mannerly!”

“I think you mean elegant, Bokuto-san.”

"Yeah, yeah, same difference." Bokuto dismisses the error with a wave of his hands. "Anyway, there's a lot of work that goes into being a leader, especially in this host club. I have to be a good role model for all the kouhais that are inspiring to be like me, yanno? It's a lot of responsibility... but you know what they say! With great power… comes great responsibility… and I don’t mind sacrificing… …”

Whatever Bokuto says next is filtered out of Keiji’s mind and, well, there goes their efforts to pay attention for once. But Keiji really can’t help but let his mind wander when they've heard the lecture before.  _This has to be at least the third time I've heard this same exact speech. Why does every 'lesson' he teaches lead to the same exact_ _thing? I'm not even an actual host - just an errand boy. There's no point in me learning any of this host-crap. Bokuto's so..._

"...must act confident..." Bokuto's voice drifts in and out of their mind, but this time Keiji purposely tries to ignore it. 

_He's so... ugh, what was the word? 'A pain in the neck'?_

"Another trick to be a good host is..."

_No... it was a more descriptive word..._

"...that looking up from an angle works like a charm on most girls! Here, like  _this!"_

Bokuto’s sudden proximity snaps Keiji back to reality, and in the haze of trying to figure out why he’s so close to their face (seriously, what was Bokuto talking about before?), they’re abruptly reminded of the word they were looking for.

“Ah!” Keiji says, a feeling of satisfaction rising up their stomach. _Bokuto-san is so –_

“What? Did that light something within you, Akaashi?”

“Obnoxious,” they say out loud. _That’s_ the word that describes Bokuto perfectly. “Bokuto-san is obnoxious.”

They hear Kuroo chortle with a cookie-filled mouth from somewhere and  _oops did they say right in front of Bokuto._ Before Keiji can apologize, Bokuto is (somehow) already brooding in the corner in the room. 

"AKAASHI!" Bokuto wails (or at least, Keiji _assumes_ that’s what Bokuto’s saying – it sounds more like _AghaAASHI_ but they’ve learned how to interpret his gibberish in an amazing amount of time) while slumping on the floor. “SO CRUEL!”

Keiji’s heart flutters (wait, what?) at the sight of their clearly distressed senpai, and familiar pinpricks of guilt are beginning to form again. They _were_ being rude for not paying attention to his speech twice in one sitting. They should at least apologize for their actions… even if they weren’t really kidding when they called Bokuto obnoxious.

“I’m sorry Bokuto-san,” Keiji begins uncertainly, fidgeting with their fingers. “You… you did light something within me.” _And stuff,_ they almost add.

For a few, tense seconds, the room is eerily quiet – it seems that everyone is aware of their predicament. Keiji, for a second, thinks they’ve made the situation worse and Bokuto will either a) begin to cry, or b) start reprimanding them. They aren’t sure which would be worse, and it’s when they’re thinking about how they could deal with Bokuto that they’re suddenly being _crushed_ by a hug that knocks the air out of their lungs.

It’s Bokuto, swinging them from left to right violently. “I KNEW IT” he yells happily. “I’M SUCH A COOL AND AWESOME SENPAI! NOBODY CAN RESIST MY CHARM, RIGHT? I CAN TEACH YOU LOTS OF MORE COOL TRICKS ABOUT BEING A HOST! YOU SEE, WHEN IT COMES TO TREATING YOUR GUESTS...”

Before Bokuto can continue, Oikawa (thankfully) interrupts by gently stopping his wild swinging and looking over Keiji with a sharp eye. “Kou-chan, I know you’re having fun teaching Akaashi here about being a host, but he hasn’t even passed the first visual test.”

They’re finally put down, and Keiji is a bit dizzy from all the motion. “Oikawa-san is right,” they say, brushing off the dust from their fringing sweater. “I’m grateful for the sentiment, but the chances of me being a very successful host is unlikely.”

Like Oikawa mentioned, even if Keiji wasn’t a commoner, even if Keiji was rich like everyone else in the entire school, they _still_ wouldn’t be host material. Their hair is too long and curly, their glasses cover most of their face and distort the color of their eyes (they’re green, not that anyone can tell), and their closet currently consists of things that are comfortable, not things that look good. 

“WHAT?” Bokuto looks genuinely shocked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “That’s not true at all! You’d be a perfect host… we just need to fix your hair and stuff!”  Bokuto nods in encouragement, but Keiji’s frown only deepens. “If you do all that, you’ll probably look great! Here, maybe take _these_ off and maybe…”

Keiji takes a step backwards, wringing both hands in disagreement. “Wait,” they say in half-panic. “I lost my contacts at the opening ceremony and these are an old pair –“

This time, It's Kuroo who interrupts - which Keiji is grateful for, because they're not too sure if they want to show everyone what they look like without glasses. "Bo, taking off his glasses wont help much. No offense, but he's a lost cause." Kuroo stops and looks at Keiji apologetically, who only shrugs to say  _no offense taken._ "With this type of face, taking off glasses only makes the eyes look smaller - here, let me show you."

Oh wait, Kuroo was  _supposed to stop Bokuto from taking of their glasses, not help and –_ well, Keiji doesn’t even have the time to process what’s going on before the familiar weight on his nose bridge is being lifted.

Complete silence. Then, a low whistle from Kuroo accompanied by a soft _“I take my words back,”_ exactly when Oikawa whispers, “What the…”

“Do I really look that bad?” they ask, looking at everyone’s shocked expressions. It’s Suga who really breaks the silence first.

 “Oh no, you don’t look bad, nothing like that. You never told us – yeah, nothing like that,” he mutters as if nervous.

Wait, Suga being awkward and slightly stuttering? They really must look vastly different without glasses on to get such a big reaction. A part of their mind whispers, _they’re just lying to you; you look terrible and don’t belong in this club, you’re just a dog,_ but Keiji tries their best to bury the thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Keiji begins, because they aren’t sure what else to say. Was Suga being genuine when they said they didn’t look bad? Or was he pitying them? Keiji can _feel_ his brain beginning to overthink and overanalyze the situation – the host club surely _can’t_ think they’re anything close to good looking when everyone looks much better themselves, right? What place do _they,_ a commoner, have with these six? They don’t, actually-

And for the umpteenth time in a row, it’s Bokuto who stops them in their thoughts.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” Bokuto says somewhat breathily. The insecurities they felt seconds before are smashed; he spoke with such conviction, such _innocence,_ with no hidden meaning behind his words.

 It was just a simple, earnest compliment. Nothing more, nothing less.

 And maybe _that’s_ why their cheeks flush, why their heart beats a bit faster, why their usually overactive mind completely shuts down.

 Not that it means anything special.

* * *

Before their brain can short circuit from an unidentifiable emotion, Keiji is being led away by Kuroo’s strong grip. The last thing they hear is Bokuto issuing orders – something about Oikawa calling his hair stylist?

After a few short minutes of speed-walking, Keiji is shoved into a curtained off changing room along with the school’s uniform for men. “Wear this,” Kuroo simply says. “The size should fit, but if it doesn’t, just say so.”

"I don't - I don't understand."  _What's going on, why did you give me this uniform, what's so surprising about my face it's just me without glasses come on -_

Instead of answering, Kuroo just shakes his head with a coy smile. "Change first, ask questions later, emerald eyes."

 _"Emerald_ eyes?" Keiji asks with raised eyebrows. "Seriously?"

Kuroo simply shrugs. "It's the first word that came to mind. What, would you rather be called something else? Maybe  _jade-"_

"No thank you," Keiji grunts in annoyance. "Just Akaashi is fine."

"Alright, emerald eyes." Kuroo smirks before changing the subject. "Well, are you gonna change or do I have to take off your clothes for you?"

Keiji absolutely  _does not blush_ as they widen their eyes in shock and push Kuroo out with a forceful shove. "Fine, fine, I got it Kuroo, just get  _out!"_ Maybe Keiji is being rude to Kuroo (he  _is_ their senpai after all) but they're suddenly not in the mood to remember manners and use honorifics. They feel awkward at the aspect of showing their bare body to anyone but themselves, and Kuroo is no exception. 

The uniform feels way too smooth against their skin to be made out of legal material; their original burgundy sweater and jeans are  _nothing_ in comparison to the softness of the light blue silk. Kuroo was right, everything fits them perfectly, and Keiji wishes they could keep it - but they shouldn't, because where would they even get enough yen to pay for it?

As if reading their thoughts, Kuroo yells out, "Hey, just so you know, you can keep that uniform. Think of it as a gift from yours truly."

Keiji is about to retort when they hear another voice - it's female and one Keiji doesn't recognize - and then the curtains are abruptly pushed to the side.

"I'll leave him to you, Hana-nee," Kuroo says before Keiji hears his footsteps get farther away.

They're honesty a bit confused because doesn't seem to be related to Kuroo at all - she has long, brown locks streaked with black and a nose that looks strikingly familiar (but to whom?). In her hand is a rather heavy looking back filled with combs and multiple cans of... hair spray?

"I'm Oikawa Hana," she introduces herself, and Keiji has to remind themselves to bow.  _Ah, that's who she reminded me of._

"Akaashi Keiji" they say in return.  _Is this what Bokuto meant when he told Oikawa to get his hair stylist?_

"I know," she states before bringing out a fold up chair and scissors from her bag. "My little brother requested that you get a haircut today. Told me it was an emergency."

"But everything is an emergency to Oikawa-san when it involves hair." _Did I just insult this person's little brother after having met for only a minute._ "Wait, sorry-"

Keiji is cut off by a loud laugh that sounds uncomfortably like Oikawa's. "I already like your attitude, kid," she says while ruffling your hair. "Don't worry about it. I'll make sure you look almost as good as he does when we're done, alright? This one's on you big sister Hana."

Without any more words, Keiji sits down and Hana gets to work, the changing room silent except for the sound of scissors. 

Usually, Keiji is amazingly adaptive, and can keep a straight face through any situation no matter how strange (after that one incident where they came home to find their father crossdressing, it's hard to surprise them anymore). Living with a slightly eccentric father with the idea that dressing up as their mother would somehow help, it's no surprise, and Keiji is used to having to understand random situations with only logic and deductive reasoning to help. 

But this? Keiji can't understand any of  _this._ One second, their glasses are off, and the next, they're being pampered. 

The host club is treating Keiji as an equal. But _why?_ They're not anything special, especially in comparison to everyone else. They don't have money, they don't have status, they don't even have a proper  _family._

Keiji has no clue as to what the host club thinks of them.

...Well, not exactly. If Keiji were being completely, totally honest with themselves, they would know that yes, they _do_ know what the host club thinks of them. But the thought is scary, the  _truth_ is scary, and Keiji would much rather pretend to be ignorant than to confront their fears. 

 _I'm afraid of rejection._   _I'm afraid I don't belong. It's irrational, I know, but I can't stop thinking it._

They're so lost in thought that the impromptu haircut finishes in what feels like a few minutes. Keiji has half the mind to mutter a  _thank you_ before being pushed out of the dressing room, cheeks instantly reddening as they realize the entire host clubis there, waiting for them.

"Is it really okay if I keep this uniform?" Keiji asks in an attempt to break the silence. They make sure to keep their face composed and devoid of any nervousness.

"Didn't I tell you already, emerald eyes?" Kuroo says, dropping the nickname in front of everyone causally. Keiji rolls their eyes in annoyance. They've noticed Kuroo can sometimes be just as dramatic as Bokuto and Oikawa. 

"You should've told you you looked like this from the start, Kei-chan!" Oikawa exclaims, eyeing Keiji up and down before nodding in satisfaction. A shiver runs up their spine from the intense analyzation.

Kageyama's eyes shine with something Keiji can't quite place their finger on. Respect? Reverence? Whatever it is, it makes Keiji feel slightly uncomfortable. "Akaashi-san, you look really good," he says.

Even Tsukishima gives a single, curt nod of approval (which means a lot, coming from him) and Sugawara simply decides to fuss over Keiji's uniform.

"You might even be able to draw in some customers if you keep up appearances," Suga says while brushing of stray strands of hair from their shoulders. 

With a starting jolt, Keiji realizes that Bokuto has been uncharacteristically quiet, staring at them openly with wide eyes. It  _almost_ looks like he's blushing under the lighting, making his face a strange hue of red (Keiji knows for a fact it's the lighting of the room, because there's no real reason for him to be blushing in the first place). 

"Eh... what," he finally says, almost to themselves. "So pretty..."

Keiji pretends they didn't hear Bokuto's last comment.  _I'm sure it was just a compliment._

Kuroo whispers something to Bokuto that suspiciously sounds like  _gay_ along with a few other words, but Keiji can't make sense of what that means, or how it relates to the current situation. Keiji shifts uncertainly at the prolonged period of silence that fills the room.

Whatever Kuroo meant to say, it works like a charm, and Bokuto suddenly snaps up, eyes sparkling with a look that can only mean  _I have an epiphany_ (read: I have a bad idea).

"Everything's going just as I planned!" Bokuto yells in his usual, loud voice. Keiji arches their eyebrows in confusion. 

"What?" Keiji asks even though a large part of them has a pretty good idea on where the conversation is going.

"When I first met 'Kaashi, I had the feeling he could be a host! None of you guys agreed with me, but look at him now!" 

"Yeah, yeah, we got it Bo. You were right, we were wrong, sorry we ever doubted you blah blah." Kuroo sounds insincere and sarcastic, but Bokuto eats it up anyways. 

"Oho? Finally admitting your mistakes, I see!" Bokuto nudges Kuroo playfully before continuing. "But yeah, I had faith in you, 'Kaashi! So I think it's time for the errand boy to graduate!"

_No no no, stop talking right there, please don't -_

"From now on, you're an official member of the host club! If you can get one hundred customers to request you, then we'll forgive your debt!"

Keiji blinks, trying their best to not act horrified at the situation. "Me... a host. Is that really a good idea?"  _You want me, someone who has no idea how to do what you guys do, someone who doesn't care for attention from girls, to be a host._

"Of course it is!" Bokuto says, slapping Keiji's back harshly. "All by ideas are the best, didn't you know?" 

And that was when Keiji knew they were truly, irreversibly, royally fucked.   
 

* * *

 Keiji was supposed to be a stray meteor that stayed _around_ the planets that made up the host club solar system. They were supposed to be something that managed to leave before really making an impact. 

So it's no surprise that they're feeling apprehensive when they really weren't supposed to be sucked in and begin their _own_ orbit, weren't supposed to become anything close to a planet. How could they, a commoner, a simple  _rock,_ do anything?  

Yet, there they were, with three guest - their own  _customers -_ looking at them expectantly. 

"Akaashi-kun, what do you do during your free time?" says one girl with short, black hair to their right. Before they can answer, another girl asks a new question. 

"Akaashi-kun, do you do anything special to take care of your skin?" The girl to their left with bright blue eyes smiles at them.

"Yeah, it looks really soft!" exclaims the one right across from them. 

Keiji shifts uncomfortably, fingers fidgeting with the cushioned seat.  _I can't do this. I have no idea what I should be doing. What were they thinking, promoting me to host?_

"Akaashi-kun, why did you join the host club?" they ask in unison.

The question jogs something in Keiji's mind - they  _have_ to do this, whether they like it or not, or else they'll be in serious debt. They've somehow already gotten three people to request them. If ninety-seven more people do, then their eight-million-yen debt will be forgiven, and Keiji can leave the host club. 

_Okay, simple enough. But what am I supposed to say?_

"Well," Keiji begins uncertainly, hoping the story they're about to share is dramatic enough to entertain the girls. "Ten years ago, my mother died of sickness, leaving just me and my father by ourselves."

They can practically  _feel_ everyone's gazes on them (something tells them all the other hosts are listening in, not that they can do anything about it) as they talk. Nervous sweat makes their palms uncharacteristically clammy.

"A few weeks ago, I ran into some trouble. The host club saved me, and since I didn't have much back at home to begin with..."  _what am I even saying anymore?_ "I agreed to join them as thanks." 

Well, Keiji's twisting the story a bit (okay, they're twisting to story a  _lot)_ but it's the best half-truth they can think of that's vague enough to satisfy the guests. They feel uncomfortable at the aspect of all these strangers learning about them - better to lie when things get too personal. That, or just refuse to answer. 

But they're not lying about their mother, or the fact that they don't have much back at home. Not to say that they're in poverty, but Keiji doesn't have the same luxuries as the people of Ouran. It's just the way things are. 

Unfortunately, the girls still seem curious. "What kind of trouble?" asks the girl to the left, pushing for more information. 

"Nothing important," they says briskly and detached as possible, trying to hide their eagerness to move onto the next question. Saying they accidentally broke a vase and didn't have the money to pay back for it sounds embarrassing in front of all these people, and Keiji ins't about to let the conversation get to that point. "You wouldn't want to know, anyways." 

They're doing a crappy job at handling the situation, but the girls surprisingly squeal and blush. 

"If your mother isn't home, then who does all the house chores?" asks another girl (thank goodness for the topic change - Keiji was beginning to get anxious). 

Well, this isn't so hard or personal to answer. "I do most of it, though sometimes my dad will try and cook when he is-n't out," Keiji finishes awkwardly, hoping nobody caught the stumble.  _I almost just said, when_ _he's pretending to be mom._

The girls don't say anything, but the excited, shared looks between them say otherwise. 

"When my mother was in the hospital, she left a lot of her favorite recipes in a book. From time to time, I'll try and make some of the dishes. And when they turn out well..." Keiji doesn't finish the sentence, instead choosing to smile fondly. They can't help but remember the times when their father stared at them with an astonished expression, saying  _did you really make this?_

 _Just like your mother,_ he would say. 

"Akaashi-kun..."

Oops, that's right, this is no time to be taking a trip down memory lane. "I'm sorry, I was just reminiscing. What is it?"

"Uh... is it okay if we request you tomorrow too?" 

Keiji's lips turn up into another soft smile before they can help it.  _That makes at least 94 left._ "That would be much appreciated."

When the girls blush and squeal like they would if Bokuto gave them a compliment, Keiji thinks that maybe - just maybe - they're not as fucked as they think they are. 

They could get used to this. 

* * *

Bokuto can't help but stare. 

In his defense, they're  _all_ staring at Akaashi as he tends to his guests. At least  _he_ has a valid reason for looking at Akaashi - he, as a senpai, is just making sure Akaashi is hosting the three lucky girls with the proper etiquette, though from what he can see from his position a few feet away, it seems he's doing even better than expected. 

"He's popular from the start, huh," Oikawa whispers while squatting right behind Akashi's char. OIkawa is either ditching his guests (something Bokuto is admittedly doing right now; he'll let it slide, just this one time) or is free for once in his life. Though, the latter is unlikely. 

“He gives off the mysterious kind of vibe,” Tsukishima casually says, adjusting his glasses in deep thought. “That’s probably why the girls are attracted to him. He’s actually quite skillful in manipulating and drawing in attention, whether intentional or not.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Kuroo says while squatting next to Oikawa. Bokuto’s surprised Akaashi hasn’t turned around and shooed them away yet – perhaps he’s being courteous, or really just can’t hear their ramblings. “Emerald eyes definitely has that look to him that says, _you don’t know anything about me._ Makes girls go crazy.”

“I’m not sure if he needs any training from you, Bokuto-san,” Kageyama says curtly. Bokuto deflates at that because he can’t deny it – not to mention Kageyama isn’t one to filter his words, which means it _must_ be true; Akaashi Keiji is a natural and does not need the help of anyone.

He’s about to respond with a retort of his own, about how he _knew_ Akaashi would be a natural and _wow does he look good in that uniform –_ until a familiar voice pulls him back to reality.

“Koutarou.” It’s Izumi, who seems vaguely pissed.

“Ahahaha, sorry princess! I was just checking on Akaashi to make sure he was doing a good job. You know, normal senpai stuff.”

“You seem awfully enamored by him,” Izumi says coldly, sipping her tea as daintily as possible.

“Well, that’s because Akaashi is the coolest!”

"The coolest, huh?" Izumi clenches her teacup so tightly, Bokuto is surprised it doesn't crack. 

"Yeah, almost as cool as you!" 

 _Wrong thing to say,_ Bokuto realizes as Izumi sends a glare so cold, so  _angry_ to Akaashi that he's suddenly scared. "You're still my princess, so don't worry Izumi!"

"Of course, I know that," she says even though her voice is strained. Then, quieter, so quiet that Bokuto almost misses it, "but he's your _prince_ now. What will happen to the princess?"

Bokuto pretends not to hear, but the gears in his head are already turning.

* * *

_Where is it?_

Keiji walks down the hallways of Ouran, in search of their seemingly missing schoolbag. It’s not the first time things have gone wrong from them – just the other day, they found a blade in their textbook, the sharp edge slicing fingers as they flipped through the pages. The white bandages around their fingers are a reminder that maybe someone is out for them. But who?

They wander the halls in a somewhat desperate manner – _my wallet, student ID, and homework is in my bag, so I can’t go home without it –_ and they don’t slow down until they look out into the courtyard through one of the many glass windows that decorate the halls. There’s nothing unusual about the little garden that surrounds the small pond with a pissing angel statue, until Keiji takes a closer look and realizes their belongings are floating in the water.

_And I thought there would be no bullying at this school._

"Oh," says a voice from behind them. Keiji doesn't need to turn around to recognize Izumi, who they can tell is standing poised and still from the window's reflection. "It's you."

Something tells them that they should be quiet, so Keiji doesn’t respond. Instead, they slightly tilt their head back to show that, yes I am listening, and yes, I’m not talking to you.

"Is it nice, being  _cleaned up_ by Koutarou?" she shays after a few beats of silence.

"Excuse me?" Keiji asks, finally breaking their own silence.  _Is Izumi... attacking me right now? What did I ever do to her? I_ _barely even know her._

"I said, is it nice having Koutarou try and fix you up? You must feel  _really_ special."

Keiji frowns, because they weren't asking for a repeat. "I don't-"

"While you're being pampered, why don't you try and correct your poor upbringing? Let me just say he's only doing so much because he feels bad for your unfortunate situation."

Then she runs off, footsteps quickly echoing farther and farther away, silence filling the halls once more.

For a few moments, fear suddenly seizes them up. Keiji stays frozen in their position, mind racing with the sudden possibility. 

They always knew that some classmates didn't like them for their background. And they were always okay with that, at least until they came to the host club, where suddenly being social and class were important. So Keiji wasn't - isn't, because they still catch themselves thinking like this - surprised when they felt inferior to everyone there, because everyone was everything Keiji wasn't. The host club only really let them be host because they were physically unable to pay back eight million yen. It was just labor. 

Yet... what if?

What if they – Bokuto, Kuroo, Oikawa, Suga, Tsukishima, Kageyama – all _pitied_ them?

A flash of pain spreads throughout Keiji's chest at the idea. The host club wouldn't sink that low... right? 

Then just as abruptly as the fear appeared, Keiji forcefully pushes it back down. _I can't let her get to me,_ Keiji thinks to themselves, new determination filling their chest.  _That's what she wants. I'm stronger than this - the host club wouldn't do that._

 _(They could_ , whispers a quiet voice in their mind, but Keiji forces it back into the far corners of their mind as well. They can worry about it  _later,_ if the issue actually comes up).

Keiji begins walking again to the pond outside. Sure, they would be lying if they said Izumi's words didn't affect them, didn't hurt at all, but besides their initial unease, Keiji feels their competitive spirit flare. 

_Whatever game she's playing, I won't let her win._

* * *

_Well, it look like I've found the culprit for this mess,_ Keiji thinks in an attempt to cheer themselves up. Not that they would actually  _tell_ anyone what happened without evidence. Or else, they run the risk of offending Bokuto. She  _is_ his so-called princess after all, and Keiji doesn't want to step on anyone else's toes. 

They feel bad for getting the brand new uniform they  _just_ got wet, but Keiji isn't in the mood to strip to look for all the items that sunk underwater. Thankfully, the little lake surrounded by shrubs of various flowers isn't too deep, and all Keiji has to do is roll up their pants and use their hands as eyes. 

Keiji's lost in thought (for the hundredth time in the week, it seems), trying to figure out what Izumi has against them. They can't recall ever talking to her before. Is it because they're a commoner? But then, would why would she go out of her way to make their life miserable just because of that? What could she possibly gain from doing all this? What could  _they_ do to stop her from doing anything,  _saying_ anything worse?

_Nothing. There's really nothing I can do to stop-_

"Hey, whatcha doin'?" 

It's Bokuto, backpack causally slung over his shoulder while grinning.

"I... dropped my bag into the lake and need to find my wallet," Keiji says, unwilling to tell the truth. Even if Izumi wasn't Bokuto's favorite, they still wouldn't tell, because apparently the host club makes a profit through the customers and Izumi is a big contributor. 

"Dropped you backpack... on accident. From where?" Bokuto raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

Keiji pretends to not understand. "I'm a lot clumsier than I look," they try to half-heartedy explain. ."I dropped it through the window while running down the hallway."

When it becomes clear that Keiji isn't going to give up their silent battle of  _tell me what really happened,_ Bokuto simply shrugs and begins taking of their shoes. 

They stop searching for a second to stare incredulously. Seemingly oblivious, Bokuto begins to hum a song as he rolls up his pant sleeves.

"What are you doing?" Keiji asks in half panic, half appreciation. "You shouldn't get yourself wet just for me."

Izumi's words flash through Keiji's mind again.  _Are you pitying me? Are you only doing this because you feel bad for me?_ Then Keiji stops, because they feel guilty for thinking like that. 

"I'm helping you find your wallet," Bokuto says, as if it's normal for him to help people find their belongings in the bottom of small lakes even when that person is obviously lying. "I don't mind the water at all, so don't worry about it!"

This time, it's Bokuto who wins the silent battle, so Keiji only grunts in disapproval but doesn't really say anything as he wades in the water. They work in silence for a few minutes, searching through rocks and sand. It's when Keiji's hips are beginning to get sore from being bent over for so long that Bokuto gives a triumphant shout. 

"Found it!" he says before tossing the leather object. They somehow manage to catch it despite their tendency to drop things (they weren't kidding when they called themselves clumsy; Keiji  _did_ accidentally break a eight-million-yen vase, after all).

"Wow, you actually managed to find it. I'm impressed," they say, somewhat mockingly, checking to make sure everything they need is in there.

"HEY HEY HEY! WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!" Bokuto shouts, jumping up and down while splashing water everywhere. 

"It means you're usually not very good at finding things. I recall it took you a few hours to find your phone the other day, when it was in your pocket all along."

"AKAAAASHI! I THOUGHT YOU PROMISED TO NEVER TALK ABOUT THAT AGAIN!"

Keiji can't help but let their lips turn up in a small smile, all earlier negative thoughts gone (teasing Bokuto is surprisingly more fun and therapeutic than they would like to admit). "Oh, I did? Sorry," they say in a completely unapologetic voice.

They continue to talk to Bokuto like that until they realize (a bit too late) that he's somehow already helped them wring out all the water in whatever could be saved and walked them to the bus stop home.  _Time really flies when you're occupied,_ Keiji thinks as they observe the setting sun, which sends orange and yellow waves of light into the sky.  _It's the first time I've hung out with someone from school... outside of school. It feel strangely normal._

"Thank you for all the help today," Keiji says sincerely. They feel much better now, for some reason, even if the entire issue with Izumi hasn't been resolved one bit. 

"Oh! No problem," Bokuto says bashfully. Keiji feels their cheeks go red because  _Boktuo aka Mr. Confident, is actually acting flustered right now. It's almost cu-_

They see the bus round the corner of the street, and for some reason, they feel disappointed. 

Bokuto see it too. "Looks like your ride's here, 'Kaashi! Let's hang out more often, yeah?"

Keiji almost tells Bokuto that, _of_   _course, we hang out literally every afternoon for club activities. Even if I didn't want to, I have to hang out with you._ But something stops them, and instead they say, "Sure. See you tomorrow, Bokuto- _senpai."_

They have no idea what encouraged them to call Bokuto senpai, but they don't regret it once they see his expression. 

They wish they took a picture of Bokuto's face in that moment. 

__

Keiji had convinced themselves that, for whatever reason, Izumi hated their guts. She did, after all, insult them and dump their bag into the school lake. She was also probably the culprit of the blade-in-textbook incident. 

So they're bewildered when their first customer for the next day is Izumi herself. 

The last thing they hear is Suga whisper a shocked,  _"this is the first time she's requested anyone else besides Bokuto since the start of the year,"_ before sitting down at a table, anxiously playing with the lace table covers. 

"I heard your bag of fell out of the window  _all on it's own_ into the pond the other day," Izumi starts, sipping her tea. "That must have been terrible... but accidents can't be avoided, no?"

Keiji keeps their face composed.  _Why the hell would she request me? Is she trying to spite me?_

_What does she have against me?_

They can't help but remember her words yesterday.  _It's because of her I'm second guessing the host club's intentions,_ Keiji thinks sourly.  _Even if it might be true, I don't like it._

Keiji and reflection don't go well together - they always overthink things, always misread situations, which is why they usually use witty comments when they need to socialize (whether the time is right or not) and keep to themselves. Even their closest friends only know a few things about them.

Now that they're a host, now that they're always being  _forced_ to act and share, they feel like they're under the spotlight. 

And they feel  _especially_ under the spotlight right now, as Izumi seems to be waiting for Keiji to say something.  _If I can understand why she seems to hate me,_ Keiji thinks,  _then at least some of my worries will be assuaged. This is the perfect chance._

"Though," Izumi continues when Keiji doesn't give a response, "to make Koutarou go through all the trouble of picking up your own disgusting belongings... you really don't know your place do you?" The accusation is silent, but Keiji hears it as if it were being spoken out loud.  _You don't belong here._

"I already told you this, but i'll tell you again. Koutarou only cares about you because you're poor - he  _pities_ you. So don't get any weird ideas on why he's so attached to you, alright?" 

And then, the truth hits Keiji in the face, and their eyes widen in realization. 

_Ah. I understand now._

"So what you're telling me is that..."

_I understand now, and it's shallower than I thought._

"...you're jealous?" 

Izumi looks frozen, whatever she was about to say dying on her mouth, and Keiji can’t help but feel a bit smug for figuring her out so quickly. They feel relieved, because _Izumi was just jealous,_ and now it’s possible everything she said is false.

Then, something suddenly pushes the chair underneath them.

It happens too fast for Keiji to process – the table flips, tea and vases filled with flowers fall of and shatter on the ground, and Izumi falls backwards while they fall forwards. Keiji has half the mind to stop themselves from crushing Izumi before realizing what position they’re in and what it must look like to everyone else.

“HELP!” she shouts suddenly, calling the attention of everyone in the room. “AKAASHI SUDDENLY ATTACKED ME! SOMEONE GET RID OF THIS FILTHY COMMONER-“

Her rant is cut short when the two of them are doused in a sticky liquid they recognize as tea. Keiji sits back and looks up, only to find Tsukishima and Kageyama looking down with empty glass pitchers. 

Izumi’s usually luscious hair is soaked and flat, dress stained with brown. “What… what was that for?” she asks with a trembling look. Keiji almost feels sorry for her (but they don’t, because she made their life terrible in the past few days and _they themselves_ are drenched in tea as well).

Bokuto gently comes over and helps Izumi up, and she looks up at him with crocodile-tear filled eyes. “Koutarou… A-Akaashi _assaulted_ me…”

They fidget with their fingers.  _There's no way he'll believe her... right?_

He caresses her hair before speaking. “Ohhhh boy, what am I supposed to do with you?” he says in a somewhat joking voice before becoming serious. “You’re the one who threw ‘Kaashi’s bag into the lake, right?”

It feels as if the air in the room is being drained out – Izumi’s face purples and she takes a step back as if slapped. “W-what? How could you say that? Do you have evidence?” Her voice is high and shrilly, obvious guilt written all over her face.

Bokuto simply laughs, his voice echoing throughout the silent room. “You’re really pretty, Izumi. I’ll say that much. But I don’t like it when girls are shallow. _Especially_ when those girls are my best customers. In fact, if there was a girl like that, I would ban her from ever coming back.”

_Wait - is he saying what I think he's saying?_

"If there's one thing I learned from being with 'Kaashi over there, it's that he's not that kind of person."

Izumi seems to get the message -  _you're not welcome here anymore._ She screams at Bokuto, "Koutarou you idiot!" before running off, leaving a trail of wet splatters.

Bokuto's confidence deflates just a fraction as he looks down at Keiji, who's still in a tea-puddle on the floor. "Sorry about that, 'Kaashi! I had a feeling she was... acting out, but didn't talk to her. Though, you  _did_ manage to cause a scene, and I'll have to give some sort of punishment for that."

_Please don't increase my debt, please don't increase my debt, please don't increase my debt-_

"How bout I increase your quota to 1,000?" 

Keiji slumps, hands running through their messed up hair.  _It seem the universe is against me today._

"Here," Bokuto says, extending out his hand. Keiji grabs it and  _wow his arms are really strong-_

"This is our  _last_ spare uniform," Kuroo says before handing them a bag. "You should change out of your wet clothes."

"Thank you..."

And, despite themselves and their earlier insecurities, looking at everyone's concerned glances, Keiji lets themselves hope.

Because the way Suga fusses over them, or the way Kageyama hurriedly gets towels, the way Tsukishima helps them with their tie, the way Kuroo keep telling jokes to lift their mood, and the way Oikawa gets them some of their favorite cookies has no trace of pity or rejection. No, they all treat them with consideration. _As if they were a part of their little family._

And of course, the way Bokuto  _banned their best customer, just for them,_ screams kindness, not belittlement.

So Keiji hopes - maybe they have a place in the stars after all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention I'm really bad at making up nicknames and analogies. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I'm surprised at the amount of feedback I've been getting, and it really makes me happy. The chapter ended up being much longer than expected... I just wanted to ask, was the length ok? Should i have divided this chapter into two? Or is it fine as it is? I hope I didn't make Akaashi seem too weak or OOC, if they are, just tell me! Another note, sorry if it seems some characters are not getting a lot of the spotlight! I promise each host will have their time to shine, it's hard writing scenes with 7 people and giving all of them lines. Next chapter will introduce new characters eheheh. 
> 
> (if anyone is curious, Kuroo's nickname for Akaashi was inspired by an awesome fic called [Welcome to Fukurodani Academy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5773762/chapters/13306558))
> 
> (Please feel free to talk to me on my [tumblr](http://allu-ria.tumblr.com))


	3. From Acquaintances to...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama visits the convenience store for the first time and discovers the joy of milk boxes and a certain orange-haired clerk. Meanwhile, Akaashi deals with a new customer by the name of Mika-chan, who has a thing for teacups, changing her 'favorite host' every week, and a certain boy who delivers said teacups regularly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AhhhhHHH WE PASSED 100 KUDOS? I'M SO HAPPY THAT A LOT OF PEOPLE ARE ENJOYING MY FIC, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! I'm very sorry for the LATE update, I got caught up in summer school, writers block, and pokemon go (sorry, sorry but POKEMON GO). Buuuuut we have a few new characters introduced this chapter so pls forgive me... 
> 
> Disclaimer: This was unbeta-ed so if anyone notices weird grammar, spelling, or awkward pacing, just tell me and I'll do my best to fix it!

Kageyama Tobio isn't sure why he agreed to go get instant coffee. 

It was always Akaashi who did the chore, at least until he got promoted. Then after that, the second years started to take turns every week to the so-called convenience store (although Kuroo is now banned from going alone thanks to an incident where he bought every single bottle of instant coffee in the store). 

So he didn't  _need_ to go and volunteer himself when Bokuto exclaimed very loudly that  _someone_ had to go restock with only five minutes left until the club doors opened. 

Maybe he felt like being kind, to the surprise of everyone - not to say Tobio  _isn't_ kind, it's just that he usually doesn't go out of his way to do favors for anyone.  _If you need to do something, do it yourself,_ is what he tells himself and other people all the time, which is why he's just as shocked as everyone else when he speaks up. 

"Is Tobio-chan finally learning what kindness means?" he hears Oikawa snicker as he leaves. Tobio wonders if that's true - then shakes his head, disregarding Oikawa's words, because that's a ridiculous thought. It's not like he's  _incapable_ of being considerate (though he has been described as 'emotionally constipated' a lot in his middle school days), he just doesn't like expressing feelings often. Especially when those feelings of 'friendliness' and 'care' require  _work_ and much more effort than he's willing to spend. He tries to think if there's been life-altering even to affect him like this, to make him actually want to  _do_ something for someone else, but nothing comes up - unless you count Akaashi, but Tobio isn't sure if a commoner joining the host club is that big of a change. Maybe it is, not that he would be able to tell, since it hasn't been that long.

If he were to be honest, the only reason why he agreed wasn't because of some renewed sense of integrity, or a sudden desire to dedicate time to doing the chores of his fellow club members, but rather plain curiosity. 

He's never been to a convenience store - never even  _knew_ there was one nearby until Akaashi mentioned it. And embarrassingly so, he really  _really_ wants to know what it's like. Commoner customs are so abstract to him, and in the same way he wants to learn the best from Oikawa (no matter how painful he acts), he wants to  _understand_ the life he's never had a chance to experience.

Following Akaashi's instructions carefully (he's always prone to getting completely lost, for some reason) he finds himself in front of a small, corner store with a neon sign that reads  _Sakanoshita Store._ Hoping he won't be too out of place with his school uniform, Tobio takes a deep breath and steps inside.

He's instantly met with weak air conditioning and a loud voice yelling "welcome!" from the cashier. Tobio's the only one in the entire store, shelves of various instant foods and frozen goods lying dormant and untouched for the day. He eyes a special sale for something that looks like a milk box, though Kageyama isn't too sure (he vaguely remembers hearing about the brand from Akaashi).

"Do you need help with anything, mister?" the cashier asks cheerfully, bringing him back to reality. Tobio instantly takes note of his wild, unnaturally orange hair. He looks like a middle schooler, especially with his short stature and dirtied apron two sizes too big.  _Why does someone as young as him have a job?_ Tobio thinks, immediately followed by,  _he's cute._

Then his cheeks redden because  _did he just call a stranger, a potential middle schooler, cute?_ Slightly tensing and berating himself, Tobio tries to respond as if he isn't flustered.

"Uh - do you have instant coffee?"

He knows they have instant coffee, or else he wouldn't have gone to this store to get some, but it seems like the appropriate question to ask. The stranger - Tobio can't read his name tag from where he stands - points to the far corner of the store and says, "sure, it's in aisle two."

Along the way, Tobio makes sure to take note of everything  _different._ He's never seen any of these snacks, any of these  _brands_ honestly. Why would anyone need something like instant ramen?

A part of him wants to ask the cashier, while the other part doesn't in fear he'll come off as rude. Maybe he'll ask Akaashi later, since he seems to be used to all the questions he has for him.

Tobio only takes a few bottles snorting at the memory of Kuroo coming back with six plastic bags of a seemingly endless amount of instant coffee (thinking about it, Tobio's surprised they need to restock  _already_ after that fiasco). Sometimes, he feel slightly apprehensive at the thought of Kuroo handling the host club's finances, but then he remembers just how good he is with numbers (and nerdy science facts, for that matter). 

At the register, Tobio finally gets a chance to read the faded nametag -  _Hinata Shouyou._

"Are you from a school around here or something?" the cashier, Hinata, suddenly asks while scanning the coffee. "A few weeks ago, someone with the same uniform and rooster-like hair came and and bought a lot of instant coffee."  _Beep_ goes the machine, and before he can retort with a comment regarding Kuroo's moments of stupidity, Hinata begins to talk again. "And before that, someone with the same uniform and curly hair came almost every week!"

"Yeah, they're my... classmates, I guess."

Tobio internally curses himself for being awkward - how he became a popular host despite his utter lack of people skills, he has absolutely no idea. Something about being a 'wild type' according to Bokuto - whatever that means.

"So, what school do you go to? Why do you need so much instant coffee? Does your school have an instant coffee club or something?" Hinata continues asking, the rambunctious energy and endless curiosity reminding him of a certain owl-headed leader. "How- ah, sorry, I asked too many questions! I do that a lot when I'm nervous and..." he trails off, clenching his stomach as if needing to go to the bathroom before continuing, "well, you don't have to answer anything you don't want...? But i'm curious."

"Uh," Tobio replies intelligently.  _Wait, why is he nervous? There's nothing to be nervous about... am I making him uncomfortable?_

"I go to Ouran high school," Tobio says bluntly, fidgeting with the hem of his blazer.  _Wait, why do_ I  _feel nervous all of a sudden? There's nothing to be nervous about... except-_

"Ohh, you mean that super elite school for super rich people?" Hinata suddenly yells, jumping up and down, all traces of earlier anxiousness disappearing in a flash. "I have a friend who goes there! Although I haven't seen him in the uniform, which is why I didn't recognize you at first. His name is Kenma! Do you know him?" Tobio is about to mention something like,  _you said super twice, dumbass, and it's not like I know everybody that goes to my damn school_ (though the name  _does_ sound familiar) before being stopped by a loud, gruff voice from the back of the store.

_"HINATA, GET BACK TO WORK AND STOP TALKING TO THE CUSTOMERS!"_

"Ugh, okay Ukai-san!" Hinata calls back before rushing to finish up. "Sorry I distracted you...?" he pauses, a silent question in his eyes.

"Kageyama. Kageyama Tobio," he finally introduces.

"Alright, sorry I distracted you Kageyama-san. Is there anything else you need?"

Tobio looks around, in deep consideration. He  _did,_ after all, come for the sake of research. It would be a shame if he  _only_ got instant coffee - maybe he should try a commoner snack, or something of the other. 

Then his eyes land on the milk box sale from earlier (and, well, Tobio  _does_ enjoy milk), and idea already forming in his mind.

"I want those milk boxes," Tobio says determinedly. "Please."

"Alright, that will be 1,500 yen!"

Taking out the host club's wallet and his phone, Tobio's eyes widen at the time.  _Have I really been here for that long? Bokuto is going to kill me. No, wait, Oikawa is going to kill me._

"Thank you," he says while bowing, taking the plastic bag and making his way to the automatic doors.

"Have a good day!" Hinata says while waving, face brightened with a smile. "See you next time!" he adds as an afterthought, though it sounds a bit more like  _seeyounexttime!_

Tobio opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out. What doe she want to say?  _Do I want to come back or not?_

It takes a second to get the answer -  _yes._

And when Tobio is already halfway to Ouran high school, he realizes just how much impact Hinata's last words had on him, because a part of him, for some reason, wants to turn around and head back. A part of him wants to go to the Sakanoshita Store another day and say,  _nice to see you again._

 _It's because of these milk boxes,_ he tries to convince himself, sipping at the drink with frustration.  _Not because of anything else, not because I'm still curious about commoners._

_And definitely not because I want to see Hinata Shouyou again._

After all, Tobio isn't one to act upon emotions, much less silly, nonexistent crushes. 

__

Keiji usually isn't one to lose track of time.

Which is why they're surprised to be interrupted by another guest, presumably to remind them it's time for an appointment change. Maybe it's because of the way Music Room #3 is decorated - with tall, palm trees shipped from who know where, vines hanging from the ceiling, and even live, exotic birds.

It's spring, not summer, yet Bokuto thought it would be a good idea to have a Bali-inspiried theme throughout the week. Keiji blames Suga and Oikawa - they're the ones who probably thought up of this, after all. Every host is wearing some sort of golden outfit that's way too skin revealing for Keiji to even consider trying on. Sure, they're  _hot_ with the blue suit, but it's much better than the skimpy outfit Bokuto showed them.

So, Keiji convinces themselves it's the sudden season change's fault for their forgetfulness.

 _Why am I letting the host club’s decoration antics get to me?_ Keiji thinks as they begin to clean the table for their new guest. _When it comes to the host club, they never fail to surprise._

"I'm sorry for keeping you, princess...?" they raise their eyebrows in question, already having gotten into the habit of calling all their guests 'princess' thanks to many of Bokuto's impromptu lessons. 

"Mika, second year class 2B," says a girl with straight, light brown hair that goes a bit past the shoulders. Her bangs are split unevenly, eyes large and full of amusement. 

"May I help you to some tea, Mika-san?"

Mika faintly smiles, lush lips widening only a bit. "There's no need to be so formal with me. Honorifics and age doesn't matter, don't you think?"

"I guess," Keiji concedes after a few seconds of thought. "Though I believe it's still a good practice to talk to everyone with respect. Unless they're someone like Bokuto - then it doesn't matter."

She laughs, voice loud and bubbly, behind her hand. 

"You shouldn't hide your smile," Keiji says easily. "I would imagine it looks cute."

Mika's face abruptly turns a bright, bright, red, and they thank Oikawa for that line (although they  _are_ somewhat curious to see what Mika's smile is like). 

The conversation continues in a similar manner for the next quarter hour, full of mostly banter and questions Keiji has answered hundreds of times before. They remember the time when everything felt so awkward and difficult and _new_ \- but now, they've definitely gotten the hang of at least a few things, and most conversations move smoothly and pleasantly. 

Yet at the same time, the conversation isn't noteworthy. Keiji  _has_ been having a steady stream of customers at this point (although the number of guests is still far, far away from their goal) and it's become hard to remember every face, remember every topic, remember every detail. 

So, Keiji isn't sure why the name  _Mika, Class 2B_ sticks in their head days later. They're not sure why they remember exactly what she looks like, and how she holds herself, and the way she talks with an air of cuteness. 

They're not sure why days later, they find themselves caring for this stranger they just met. 

Looking back, it might just be because of her eyes.

 _Malcontent. Longing. A lost passion._ It's easy, at least for them, to read and analyze the flickers of melancholy that dance every so often around Mika's soft brown irises. She laughs, she smiles, yet none of it reaches her eyes. 

And Keiji wants to ask what's wrong, what's bothering her, but it seems rude to ask on their first meeting. _N_ _ext time,_ they think.  _If she's still in distress the next time I see her, I'll try and figure out what to do to help._

Another reason for Mika's memorable personality might have been the declaration. 

It came suddenly, without warning. Mika had been discussing china sets avidly, Keiji merely listening with interest, when she had stopped and pointed to the teacup they were drinking from. 

"Do you know the name of that teacup?"

"I believe they're the... Royal Alberts?" Keiji answers uncertainly. If remembering correctly, the azure and white cups were shipped in just the other day. The only reason why they have at least a guess to their name is because Bokuto screamed, "The polka blue royal alberts set is here!" while carrying a large cardboard box, bursting through the door one evening (and something like that isn't too hard to forget). 

The shadows in Mika's face lighten just a bit, hints of a genuine grin beginning to show.

 _She must really love teacups,_ Keiji thinks. Before they can wonder any longer - like,  _why did that make her happy? -_ Mika abruptly stands up, chair scraping against the floor loudly. 

"That's it," she says with fierce determination, shocking Keiji. "From now on, you're my favorite host!"

"Your... favorite host?"

"Well, that was fast," says a voice from behind, probably Kuroo (because apparently  _everyone_ listens to Keiji when they speak to their guests, rudely enough). Keiji does their best to ignore the comment. 

"My favorite host," Mika reiterates, continuing as if nobody else had spoken. 

"What makes you say that?" Keiji asks, bewilderment showing on their face.  _I've never seen you before, much less talked to you, and after about twenty minute of small talk I'm now you're 'favorite host?'_

"You're kind, modest, and know a bit about china," Mika says easily, almost forcefully as if trying to spit out something unpleasant. Keiji backs up a bit from the tone of the voice. "It's everything I want in a man."

"I'm honored you think so," they say, stirring the settled sugar in their drink wondering if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Conversation dies down and after that, Mika quickly excuses herself and scurries out of the room, ending the appointment five minutes early and leaving a confused Keiji deep in thought.

 _Why? Of all hosts, why me?_ they think as they clean up for the day, because surely, all the other hosts are more qualified for those three traits (surprisingly, most of the hosts are quite modest when it comes to their money, which is the exact opposite of what Keiji thought of in the beginning). They can't come up with a plausible reason for why Mika suddenly became enamored with them in the last few minutes of their first conversation together. 

They doubt it's just because they happened to know the name of a teacup. No, it  _has_ to be more complex. 

And Keiji blames their curiosity, and their overthinking brain, and their perceptive eyes, for wanting to know  _why,_ for picking up on Mika's well-hidden misery. 

Because now they  _need_ to find out the truth, even if it may be a bit dramatic, even if he might be making a big deal out of nothing. 

Even if they're only acquaintances right now, Keiji wants to  _know._

__

"I can't believe it!" Bokuto wails dramatically, punching the wall in the corner of the room.

It's well after club hours, and by now the ridiculous rainforest props are gone, replaced by the usual comfortable sofas and familiar glass tables. Everyone, including Keiji (against their own will, all they really want to do is go home early for once), stands crowded around OIkawa, who currently sits hunched over his laptop while typing furiously.

Well, everyone but Bokuto.

“Kou-chan, stop moping around and help us plan for the dance party next week!” Oikawa huffs. “Is Mika-chan taking a liking to Akaashi really that big of a deal?”

“It isn’t,” Tsukishima says, annoyance clearly painted all over his face. He bends, quietly whispering a suggestion in Oikawa's ear before continuing a minute later. “It’s not like her illness is something that started recently.”

“Her illness…?” Keiji asks, eyebrows drawn in confusion. "What illness?"

“Wandering host-hopping disease,” Kuroo says while shrugging, “or as I like to call it, never-the-same-boy-twice disease. You know, how she picks a host every other week and declares them as their favorite.”

"That would explain... yesterday." 

“Usually, our customers like to have a designated host they always request,” Suga explains. “But Mika-san likes to change her ‘favorite’ frequently… although it wasn’t like that last year.”

“Up until recently, her favorite was Bokuto-san,” Kageyama helpfully adds, sipping at his most recent purchase at the Sakanoshita Store - a milk box (Keiji swears the owner of the store - Ukai - is going to know the names of all the host club members if they keep going there).  

 _Ah,_ _so that's why he's upset,_ they realize after putting the puzzle pieces together. _I_ _t's because I stole his customer._

"So you're just-"

"No it isn't," Bokuto interrupts suddenly, jumping up with golden eyes piercing Keiji's train of thought.

"-yes?" Keiji says in confusion, the words _so you're just jealous_ dying on their tongue. The air around them thickens and quiets, and Keiji suddenly feels like they're under intense open examination by everyone  _including_ Bokuto, causing their stomach to churn uncomfortably. 

"You were thinking I was upset because I lost a customer, right?” Bokuto continues, strangely serious (and Keiji shivers, because  _this_ surely has to be the rare side of him,  _this_ is the intense and perceptive side of Bokuto that makes everyone look up to him as a leader). "I wouldn't stoop that low, 'Kaashi!"

They swallow thickly, fidgeting with the sleeves of their blazer. They open their mouth, a half-formulated response beginning to form, when Bokuto begins speaking again.

"Unless... you really think I'd be so petty to get that upset over a lost customer? Was I like this when Izumi-san left?" His voice quiets near the end of his sentence, an expression of defeat and guilt painted plainly across his face.

 _Uh oh_ \- Keiji doesn't need to look at everyone's alarmed faces to know that something is very  _very_ wrong. 

Bokuto is confident. Bokuto is loud, and goofy, and a fun person to be around. Bokuto, in Keiji's solar system at least, is the sun, shining light and substance for everyone - he's never  _sad,_ he never gets  _discouraged._ Keiji never even thought that Bokuto  _could_ get upset (besides the dramatic wailing that happens every other day). 

But now, sensing the level of panic from others, Keiji gets the feeling this is something more than the usual. 

"No," they say so suddenly, even they're surprised. Everyone's head snaps up, six pairs of eyes boring in them. Keiji swallows, then continues. "You would never stoop to levels that low. Sorry I ever doubted you."

Keiji chooses their words carefully - one slip-up now, and it could lead to something much worse than random complaining.  _Emo-mode, Kuroo once called it?_

They're not too eager at the aspect of increasing Bokut's already inflated ego, though right now even if Bokuto's seemingly endless enthusiasm can be annoying, Keiji would rather have to deal with _that_ than 'difficult and awkward' like right now.

Thankfully, Bokuto does  _not_ become upset. Just as quickly it had appeared, the intensity from before disappears with a flash, and a grin so bright that Keiji has to look away replaces it. 

"I know right? Glad to see you're learning from the best, 'Kaashi!"

Everyone around them collectively lets out a small, almost inaudible (but not inaudible to Keiji's sensitive ears) sighs, and Kageyama even sends them a thankful look.  _"Thank you,"_ mouths OIkawa softly,  _"For saving us the trouble."_

After that, the air is relatively peaceful, with only the sounds of typing and discussion.  _What kind of food do we order? What's the decoration's theme? What music should the orchestra play?_

Keiji, overall, isn't every interested in the dance party. They secretly hope they can opt out of the entire ordeal - because parties  _can_ be fun but are mostly overtaxing, tiring, and too crowded for them to really enjoy.

But what they _are_ interested in is why Bokuto was so upset that Mika's new favorite became Keiji.  _If it isn't because I took away his princess... then what?_

Once again, they blame their curiosity, because the more they think about it, the more they  _itch_ to know. The single word - _why_ - seems to be running through Keiji's mind a lot that day. 

_Why did we decorate the room like a rainforest? Why did Mika seem so upset? Why am I her new favorite?_

And the most recent question-of-the-hour,  _why was Bokuto upset?_

They don't realize they've spoken the question out loud until Bokuto raises his eyebrows. "Because," they say, raising their finger as if thinking, "I noticed she was upset a week ago, and I planned to cheer her up at the party next week. But if  _you're_ her favorite, then I can't make her feel better!"

Something pounds in Keiji's chest - something foreign, something they feel whenever they think about just how considerate Boktuo can be, like when he helped fish out their wallet from the pond and walked with them to the bus, and now, how he openly shows concern for someone he isn't even that close to. 

"You don't have to worry about that," they say calmly, the ghost of an affectionate smile dancing across their lips. "I won't be at the party, so you can be with her-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T BE AT THE DANCE PARTY?" Bokuto abruptly screeches, head turning so fast in Keiji's direction they're  _really_ reminded of an owl. 

"Well," they begin uncertainly when they realize everyone is expecting a decent excuse (something they admittedly don't have), "the party has nothing to do with my debt so I thought I could be excused if I didn't want to go. That's okay, right?'

They can practically  _feel_ Oikawa's smirk as he finally tears his eyes off his laptop screen and turns around to face Keiji. "No, that's  _not_ okay. All hosts, including you,should be at the party, debt or no debt. After all, Kei-chan," they pause, licking their lips before continuing, "social dancing is a common practice for gentlemen. Not to mention I need help organizing everything!"

"And that affects me how?" Keiji retaliates, desperately searching for a way out. 

"That affects  _you,_ because this is a  _huge party,_ and I'm not letting all my-"

"Our," Kuroo interrupts.

 _"Our,"_ Oikawa resumes, sticking out his tongue at Kuroo, "planning to go to waste. You've obviously never been to a real party before, so why not now?"

"I've been to parties," Keiji retorts stubbornly. 

"Birthdays and town festivals don't count," Tsukishima says airily.

Their silence is enough of an answer.

"Perfect!" Bokuto says a minute later, rubbing his hands. "Akaashi, as the captain of the host club, I command you to go to the party next week!" 

"I don't know how to dance."

"We can just teach you," Suga says loudly, and Keiji sends a dirty look. He whistles innocently, sending a bright smile back at them.

"I..." they bite their lip in deep thought, scrambling for a final, last attempt at redemption. "I don't know how to make Mika feel better. She seemed off the other day, and I also want to see what's wrong, but I doubt I can do anything to help by dancing."

It's shallow of them, but it's at time like these where their stubbornness truly shines.  _Please, just stop I've suffered enough._

"Don't worry Akaashi," Boktuo says instead of letting Keiji go. "Your senpai will take care of everything! Dancing isn't that hard, and besides, for Mika-chan, I have the greatest plan ever, also known as operation 'Make Mika-chan happy'!"

Tsukishima snorts, Kageyama respectfully turns away, Kuroo and Oikawa openly laugh, Suga sends a (not) supporting smile, and Bokuto beams.

And Keiji?

Keiji slaps their palm against their face, dragging their heavy eyelids down.

_I, Akaashi Keiji, am once again fucked by the host club._

____

Bokuto eagerly offered to help Keiji learn how to dance the day after, but he ended up being too tall of a partner (everyone in the host club was too tall, in fact). They're not too sure if they should be relieved or disappointed - for some odd reason, they feel the latter. 

Instead their instructor is Mika, who ironically volunteered to help when Keiji brought up they didn't know a clue about social dancing.

"Quick quick slow, quick quick slow," she says, leading Keiji's unsteady movements. "Bring your feet together on slow. You're supposed to lead while waltzing. And make sure you make eye contact with the girl you're dancing with.

Constrast to her soft features, MIka's words are harsh and short. They flinch when they accidentally step on her feet for what seems like the hundredth time for that day. "Sorry..." 

In the corner of the room, Keiji spots Bokuto brooding (again) for some reason, sitting hunched over. It reminds him of the same exact situation from yesterday, although now it's less punching-the-wall and borderline-emergency and more of whining and sending sad puppy eyes. As if Keiji is swayed by puppy eyes. 

“Don’t worry about Kou-chan,” calls Oikawa from a nearby couch as if reading their mind. “Focus on dancing! Just so you know, we'll be increasing your debt if you don't show up to the party." 

Keiji lets out a frustrated  _tch_ at the threat. 

After another thirty minutes of awkward movements, Mika lets a tired sigh. "Okay that's enough for today," she says before collapsing on a nearby stool.

"Thank you for taking the time out of your day to help me, Mika-chan," Keiji says, taking the closest kettle and pouring tea into a cup. The other hosts lounge around a room, cleaning up for the day. Half of Keiji wants to help, the other half wants to stay and keep Mika company at least.

"It's no problem," she says, running her finger along the rim of the cup with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Keiji frowns, but doesn't mention it. "I'm just happy I get to have you all to myself."

 _You don't look very happy._ "Are you-?"

They never finish their sentence because Mika suddenly lets out a large gasp, eyes widening in delight.

"Oh, these are  _Ginori_ cups, right?"

Suga, who stands nearby, lets out a soft chuckle. “We just got them shipped in. You have a keen eye for these things, don’t you Mika-chan?”

Her face flushes with embarrassment, looking downcast, hiding what Keiji presumes is a soft smile. “What? Not really, I was just stating a fact. Ginori cups are so pretty and… well, I don’t know much about teacups at all!”

 _She’s lying,_ Keiji realizes. _She’s lying about something she likes. But why?_

Before they can try an ask again -  _Are you okay?_ \- the door opens with a loud  _slam._

They catch a glimpse - a tiny, almost unnoticeable shimmer - of  _something_ in Mika's expression as she glances up before turning away, clutching the handle of her teacup tightly.

"Well, well, well, look who came crawling back," Kuroo drawls from the other end of the room. "If it isn't teacup boy."

Their guest is another male student, bangs cut and split unevenly, green slit-like eyes and a easy smile decorating his face. He carries a large, cardboard box covered with characters they recognize as french, and it isn't long before he reached Keiji, Mika, and Suga's spot in the room. 

"Kuroo!" Suga scolds before helping the stranger with the container. "I'm sorry, please ignore him," he continues kindly.

"It's fine," the stranger says smoothly. "I ignore him all the time anyways." 

_"HEY!"_

Keiji clears their throat and does their best to send a welcoming smile. "Nice to meet you... 'teacup boy'? I'm Akaashi Keiji."

They hear Kuroo snort in the distance.

"It's Daishou Suguru," he says, expression showing no signs of being offended. 

"I apologize, Daishou-san," Keiji replies easily, already in a comfortable mood thanks to his calming demeanor. They hold out their hand for a handshake.

For a split second, he hesitates, an expression other than  _relaxed_ flickering across Daishou's face briefly before extending his own hand and shaking it firmly.

 _Probably nothing,_ they think as a question formulates in their head. "Are you a dealer of sorts?"

"Ah, me? No, no I'm even wearing the school uniform, see?" says Daishou, waving their hand in the air modestly. "I just deliver some teas sets from my father's company."

"Daishou Trading," Suga begins as an explanation, "his family's business, imports tableware. Right now, it has the top marketshare in Japan. So whenever eye-catching comes in, we've requested that he send it in to us. 

Suga turns to Daishou, taking a clipboard resting on top of the box and signing it before continuing. "All the items you choose for us are always popular with the girls, Daishou. It's much appreciated." 

"That's a relief," he simply says in response. "I'm just glad you trust my judgement for these things." 

"Of course I do! You  _are_ the next heir in line for the company after all." 

 _I can't tell if the both of them are really this courteous or if they're just putting on a show,_ Keiji thinks a bit exasperatedly as Daishou and Suga laugh. They're not dense enough to miss the way Daishou's eyes shine in that similar way whenever Suga or Oikawa have something definitely-not-good planned.

Beside them, Mika stays uncharacteristically very, very quiet.  

"Well, I'd better get going," Daishou says after a few more minutes of polite small talk with Suga, blatantly ignoring Kuroo's well-timed insults. "Thanks for the business, Suga."

They walk out slowly, as if hesitating, before quickly turning around and flashing Keiji a grin.

"It was nice meeting you, Akaashi-san. And you too, Mika-chan." 

Then the door quietly clicks shut, and the usually chattery Mika is deathly quiet. 

Keiji opens their mouth to speak, but realizes they have no idea what to say to make Mika feel better, to make Mika talk again, to make the bitter expression on her face to  _disappear._

Thankfully, Bokuto comes in to save the day. "Mika! Want more tea?"

The words are enough to snap Mika out of her stupor, and she blushes furiously before abruptly getting out of her chair.

"I'm fine," she says, the shake in her voice clearly saying  _I'm not fine._ "I just remembered I have a lot of homework to do. See you next week, everyone!" 

A pathetic excuse, but no one says a word as she scurries off, yellow silk flying behind in her speedy attempt to leave. 

"What... was that all about?" Keiji asks to no one in particular when the host club room is all cleaned up for the day and everyone is preparing to leave. 

"That," Oikawa answers a second later, draping an arm around Keiji's shoulder, "was the worst thing that could have happened to Mika-chan."

"Are Mika and Daishou childhood friends or something?" 

"They're exes," Tsukishima states, and Keiji's eyes widen with understanding. 

"Oh," they simply say, for once having no other words. 

"For good reason," Kuroo mutters under his breath, and Suga smacks him from behind. 

"Don't be so mean!"

Keiji only raises their eyebrows. "Are you two sworn enemies?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Kuroo says darkly. "He's a lying, cheating  _snake_ that sucks up to his dad." 

"Don't listen to him," Suga whispers loudly to Keiji, who smiles in amusement, "I get along with Suguru-san just fine."  
  
"That's because you're  _both_ annoyingly cunning. And since when were you on first-name terms with Daishou?"

"Since now. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Well-"

 _"Well,"_ Bokuto suddenly interrupts, cutting Kuroo off with a sharp glare. "We have to be nice to him, at least until the party, because he's a part of the plan."

"Plan?” Keiji echos, looking at everyone confusedly. 

"Have you forgotten?" he belittles, pointing his finger dramatically. "The host club exists to bring happiness to the guests! And my super amazing plan,  _Operation make Mika-chan happy,_ will definitely make her happy!"

____

Operation make Mika-chan happy consists of Keiji dressing up like a girl.

Which is... unexpected to say the least. Not that they  _really_ mind - gender never really had a big influence on them as a person. Maybe the fact that their father dress up as their mother from time to time affected their opinion. To Keiji, at least, their sex is male but they this of themselves as agender. 

But that doesn't mean they're not embarrassed (and slightly angry at themselves for agreeing to this) when everyone gawks as they step out of the dressing room. 

Long, curly extensions are attached to their hair, along with a simple pink dress (Keiji secretly wishes it was blue or green) and red high heels. Oikawa Hana, who came only thirty minutes ago to help apply makeup, steps out right behind them with a proud smile on her face. 

"Damn, emerald eyes," Kuroo whistles, dressed in a simple black tux himself. "You make a pretty convincing girl."

"I'm only doing this to help Mika-chan," Keiji mutters murderously under their breath. "Don't push it." 

"Seems like you're willing to do a whole lot for just one girl," Tsukishima drawls, leaning towards the wall as if bored. Keiji frowns at the jibe.

"We're just-"

"GUYS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Bokuto shouts while violently swinging the door open, cutting Keiji off successfully. They let out a silent sigh of relief, because they weren't sure  _where_ they were going with the end of that sentence (they're not sure what to think of Mika anymore - it's only been a week, but they feel like they're not quite only acquaintances anymore. Maybe friends? Maybe...?). "YOU'RE LEAVING ALL THE GUESTS UNATTENDED-"

He pauses mid sentence, mouth hanging comically open as he sees Keiji. Time stands still for a moment, his golden eyes wide and their cheeks slightly flushed red from the sudden, intense attention.                                                                                                                       

Keiji sighs impatiently, breaking the silence. “Are we going to do this? Because I didn’t dress up as a girl for all of you to stare.”

“Good luck,” Suga whispers to them, squeezing their shoulders in reassurance before being pushed out to the dim, empty hallway and towards the classroom.

 _I can’t believe I’m doing this,_ Keiji thinks to themselves desperately, their footsteps echoing around the hallway.

_I can’t believe I’m doing this all for one person – all because of one club._

__

Keiji had not been fully informed of the plan until day of.

“Welcome,” Bokuto had started, voice booming all over the rented main hall of Ouran. Hundreds of girls in fancy dresses alike stopped chattering to look up at the owlishly headed man. “To the Ouran Host Club dance party!”

A loud chorus of polite clapping instantly follows, along with bright chandeliers overhead lighting up and music starting from a hired orchestra.

“We invite all of you to enjoy yourself to the fullest as you dance with the host club members!” Oikawa says, giving his signature V-sign. Keiji rolls their eyes as a few girls fan their faces. “As a bonus, the one recognized as the best dancer will become queen and get a kiss on the cheek from the one and only _Akaashi Keiji!”_

 _From_ who? 

Keiji tries – tries their _hardest_ – to not let their surprise to show.

They feel irritation begin to grow, because while they don't have anything against a simple kiss on the cheek, they  _do_ have something against doing things against their own will. A warning, or maybe asking would have been nice. 

Everyone scatters before Keiji can say something, which leaves them with no choice but to dance.

Well, _try_ to dance – so far, every host has a partner except for themselves. The fact that they're currently alone doesn't help their sullen mood, and they're not surprised when they begin to feel discouraged. 

 _What if you make a fool of yourself?_ A voice whispers, a small tendril of darkness.  _What if no one wants to dance with you?_

An uncomfortable feeling sits in their chest – before they can be overwhelmed, or do something embarrassing, they turn to the nearest host (which happens to be Tsukishima) and give a half-assed excuse about their tie to leave the room for air. They decide to head to Music Room #3.

It was stupid, to be so worked up over a  _party,_ but the acknowledgment did nothing to help their rapidly beating heart. They're reminded of the time, all those weeks ago, when they were just a errand boy and still struggling to understand why the host club was so kind to them (an answer they still try to find from time to time) - they thought those insecure thoughts had died along with Izumi's ban, but apparently not. 

They don't realize how long they've been pacing and muttering around the empty host club room until they feel a steady hand grasp their shoulder. 

"You're thinking too loudly," Tsukishima says, giving an indifferent stare, voice echoing around the dark and empty room, with only the two of them in front of a mirror. "I can hear your anxiety from a mile away. I thought you were just going to 'check to see if your tie was on correctly'?"

"I was," Keiji replies half irritated, not giving any more of an explanation. 

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know 'checking your tie' involved walking around a vacant room for fifteen minutes straight." Tsukihima gives Keiji a look as if saying,  _just cut the crap and tell me what's wrong._

Keiji sighs in defeat, rubbing their eyes together. "Just thinking too much. Nothing important, let's go."

"It's important enough to make you visibly worried. Actually, you're  _always_ visibly worried, but now it's more than usual."

"I'm not  _always_ visibly worried," Keiji manages to say although it's probably true. When Tsukishima only smirks back, they send an exasperated look. "I forgot just how stubborn you can be."

"You're the one being stubborn by not telling me what's wrong."

If it were any other day, maybe Keiji would have been a bit more willing to share. But it's  _not_ any other day, it's the day where Keiji-is-bound-to-embarrass-themselves and they're not in the mood to explain how insecure they can sometimes be, especially to someone like Tsukishima - someone who doesn't  _need_ to feel something as pathetic as that (because with wealth, status, intelligence, friends, and hundreds of people fawning over you, what more could you possibly want?).

"Let's not," Keiji says instead of an answer.

"We're not going until you give me at least a general idea," Tsukishima says in response. "I'm not asking for your entire life story, idiot. I just want to know what's gotten you so worked up... does the kiss thing really bother you that much?"

They click their tongue in annoyance. "No, not really. I was just worried," Keiji finally says, just so they can  _leave,_ "about the party. It's stupid, but I'm afraid I'll annoy everyone because I still haven't really learned the waltz well enough."

"You're right, that  _is_ stupid," Tsukishima states. Keiji's lips slightly tilt, not sure if they want to laugh at the brashness of the insult (even if they said it themselves). "As if anyone would think that. You're a good person, and if somebody  _did_ judge you just on your ability to dance, they'd be missing out on a lot."

"You're being awfully nice for just a commoner," Keiji snaps back, the sudden urge to defend their point flaring up (even if they  _want_ to be wrong, even if they're  _scared_ of saying more, pushing Tsukishima further). "When I first was forced to join... I thought it was only because you pitied me or something. Are you-?"

"That's another stupid thought," Tsukishima interrupts. "While status  _does_ have a presence in this school, none of us would criticize you on that. We promoted you to host because we so the potential in you, wealthy or not wealthy. You shouldn't be trying to change who you are just to fit in or find your place, because you already have one - so stop being so  _pathetic,_ alright?"

It takes a while for Keiji's vocal chords to work normally. "Alright," they almost whisper, wanting to say more but not being able to.

 _Thank you -_ the words sit on their tongue, unmoving. Because yes, ever since the incident with Izumi, Keiji knew that the other host club members cared about them enough to ban their best customer. Keiji knew that they were a proper host now, that they were as close to 'accepted' as they could get.

But to hear it  _verbally,_ from Tsukishima of all people, rather than their own speculations  - it feel's as if a strange weight is being lifted from their shoulders. They thought they gained the courage to be themselves a month ago but now...?

Finally, finally, maybe Keiji can stop being 'pathetic' and  _really_ be themselves, without having to worry. 

Even without words, Tsukishima understands. "You're welcome," he says before walking out.  

"I never thought you'd be the one telling me all this," Keiji mutters under their breath, loud enough for the other to hear. "Who knew? 'Tsukishima, secretly the kindest of them all'?"

"If you think  _I'm_ the kindest out of the six of us, something's wrong with you. Now hurry up, Mika-san was asking for you not long ago."

Keiji frowns at the reminder. "About that, what happened to Bokuto-san's 'make Mika-chan happy' operation? I haven't heard any planning about that except from last week..." 

Tsukishima's gaze shifts to the corner of the room as if guilty. Half of his body faces Keiji while the other half faces the door, and they get the feeling that he won't like whatever he says next. 

"About that... how do you feel about pink dresses?"

__

Now they walk down the corridors of Ouran, nervously fidgeting their fingers - not because of the dance, or because of the possibility of rejection, but because of the mission.  _Operation make Mika-chan happy._

The plan is simple, almost. Keiji is supposedly a female student by the name of 'Keiko' who has a 'heart throbbing crush' on Daishou (according to Tsukishima and Kageyama). She spent an entire day pouring her 'affection' into a heart-felt confession (written by Bokuto, Kuroo, and Oikawa), and the letter is supposed to make him realize his 'lost love for Mika chan, who obviously still has feelings for her,' (explained by Suga). 

Keiji just hopes they don't make the situation worse than before.

When they open the door to a nearby classroom, lights unlit, he's already there. Keiji fidgets as Daishou turns around, taking his eyes off the outside moon and settling on them (or her, for now at least). 

"Are you the one who wrote this letter?" he asks, holding up an embarrassingly pink envelop that matches the color of their dress. 

Keiji internally sighs in relief, because no recognition flashes across Daishou's face when they try to speak in a higher pitch than usual. "Yes, I'm Keiko-kun." 

They flinch at the high  _obviously_ fake falsetto that comes out. But no, it's too late to back out now, so Keiji clenches their teeth and tries to send a winning smile. 

"You look and sound... a lot different than I imagined," Daishou says, a small smile on his lips. "Are you sure you wrote this letter?"

"I did!" Keiji says in panic, trying to muster as much cheerfulness as possible to get into character. They peek over to read what Daishou has in his hands and immediately regrets it.

 _Dear Dai-kun,_ the letter starts off, and Keiji reminds themselves to hit Oikawa in the head letter. 

_Hey hey hey! From the moment I saw your kind face, I fell in love-love! It's like my heart is being taken away by aliens from outer space as hostage to your charming looks~. You're such a HOOT and OWL definitely be a good girlfriend! Your smile feels like Docosahexaenoic acid to my brain! Please go out with me so we can live together forever!_

_\- From your beloved, Keiko-kun ~ <3_

Keiji clenches their fist, deciding that they should hit  _everyone's_ head later.  _This is so_ _embarrassing,_ they think while picking out who wrote what.

"Have we met before?" Daishou suddenly asks, green slits piercing Keiji's thoughts.

"Absolutely not!" they say in alarm, before realizing that doesn't match up with what the letter says. "I've only admired you... from afar."  _Nice save, Keiji._

"There's a moment of tense silence before Daishou speaks up again.

"I appreciate the... sentiment, Keiko-san, but there's someone else I'm with."

"Are you talking about Mika-san? Didn't you...?"

The withering glare they get from Daishou, so unlike the courteous personality from before, sends shivers down Keiji's spine. 

"Break up? Yes. Not that it's any of  _your_ business, Keiko-san. Or should I say, _Akaashi Keiji?"_

Their heart drops faster than they can blink, thundering so loudly Keiji's surprised the ground doesn't literally shake.  _How did he-_

"I'm not  _stupid,"_ Daishou says, giving a cunning smile.  _Ah, so this is what Kuroo meant by 'lying and cheating snake.'_ "I thought I would play along to see what you wanted from me, but it just looks like you're trying to make fun of my life choices. I won't judge you for swinging that way, but unfortunately for you, I  _don't._ I don't know what made you crossdress but I don't care, so if you'll  _excuse me-"_

“Where exactly are you taking me to?” cuts a soft voice from the door outside, and both Keiji and Daishou freeze. Just on time, they think, grateful to be out of the situation.

“You know, you dot strike me as the type of person that uses others,” says another voice, much louder and clearer. It’s Kuroo, surprisingly serious and mellow.

“Excuse me?”

“No matter how many times you change your ‘favorite host’ to get his attention,” Kuroo continues, making sure to make his voice loud in clear for Daishou, “you always look happier when looking at teacups.”

There's no response to that for a while, and Keiji hopes it's clear that the 'he' they're talking about is clear. "Nothing I do matters," the other voice - Mika - finally says in a low voice, "because I can't seem to get his attention. I broke up with him because I wanted to spend more time with him but... but now..." 

"You regret it?"

"I... think I do. But that doesn't mean I'm not mad at him, because all he did was talk about his family's business and volleyball. He even decided to study abroad without talking to me first. I just wish..."

They don't hear the end of the sentence, voices quietly fading away, and Daishou is deathly quiet until he takes a deep breath. 

"You see, Akaashi-san?" he says lightly, grinning although it seems forced. "Call me selfish, but  _she's_ the one who left the relationship. I didn't argue at first because I thought she was done with me for good. I thought... if I went to Europe, if I studied really hard in England, I could be good enough for her."

They feel wrong, as if they shouldn't be hearing this kind of confession, it should be  _Mika_ hearing about all this, but they still lick their lips and open their mouth. 

"You're right, that  _is_ selfish," they say, word's strikingly similar to Tsukishima's only an hour before. Daishou looks as if slapped. "I mean, how do you expect her to understand that if you don't tell her anything? You obviously have feelings for her, so I don't see why you're pretending she doesn't matter to you-" 

"And what do you know?" Daishou  _snarls,_ and Keiji instinctively takes a step back, realizing they've probably gotten ahead of themselves. "People always complain about losing the things they love - which is stupid, because if you really loved it then you would have done  _anything_ to keep it. And if keeping Mika-chan happy means leaving her... then I'll do it."

Keiji hums to show that they're listening. 

Daishou clicks his tongue but continues. "And... volleyball and my family's business are important to me too. As an heir, I _can't_ abandon that. I don't think-"

"You don't think you're good enough?" Keiji asks boldly, meeting Daishou's harsh gaze with a glare of their own. "You don't think you're good enough to handle both, right?"

The silence answers their question. 

Keiji takes a second to relish in it, to take a good, deep look into Daishou's  smooth features, with only his eyes to betray his real emotions - confusion and annoyance - because this is their  _element,_ this is what they pride themselves on (that is, reading and analyzing everything around them to deliver the most impactful advice they can.). "I personally don't think that you need a trip to another country to change yourself into a worthy person," they say slowly. "After all, change can begin from the moment you decide to."

"I..."

The door opens with a swift, almost silent croak, but the sound is enough to stop both Keiji and Daishou.

It's Mika, eyes widening as she takes in the scene. 

"Oh," she says weakly. "I'm sorry, I think I'm interrupting something..."

Keiji horridly realizes there's tears - actual  _tears -_ running down her face as she runs off. And Daishou, unspoken words stuck in his throat, runs after her as if Keiji suddenly doesn't exist. 

"Just so you know, I still hate you Kuroo," Daishou says before leaving. "And thanks, Akaashi. You're not as bad as I thought."

Then he's gone, footsteps echoing doing the corridor, following wet droplets on the floor.

"Didn't we just make things more complicated," Keiji says exasperatedly, running their hand through their hair and momentarily forgetting their getup

"Don't worry about it, emerald eyes," Kuroo says, stepping out of the shadows. "He  _did_ go after her, did he not? I may hate his guts, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to be with the girl he loves." 

Keiji half-smiles in the darkness. “That’s… surprisingly kind of you, Kuroo-san.”  
  
“Hey, I’m always this kind.”

This time, they _really_ smile, though it’s more sarcastic than genuine. “ _Sure,_ ” they say casually before walking towards the general direction of the party. "By the way, I'm never forgiving you for writing that awful letter." 

It isn’t long before Kuroo squawks and begins to follow.

"But it was so  _romantic!"_  
  
__

Daishou Suguru's footsteps echo heavily along the pavement, voice somewhat hoarse from shouting Mika's name. 

They're nearing the dance now, he can tell from background chatter of music and laughter growing louder.

"Mika-chan!" he tries again, and finally,  _finally,_ she stops, head cast downward and fingers clenched tightly. 

He catches up to her, barely out of breath, and then a shining light blinds the both of them.

"The last dance is dedicated to  _this,_ lovely couple!" rings out a voice that sounds like Oikawa's. A slow, sensual melody begin to play from the orchestra - a waltz, Daishou knows - and he tugs insistently on Mika's blue sleeve. 

"'Suguru is a big bore who only cares about volleyball and business' is what I said to you..." Mika says, voice shaky and unstable. "I regret saying that now." 

He usually has perfect control over his facial expressions but it's hard to keep the surprise of his face.

"Even if that was all I did, I don't think I'd be very happy," he finally settles on saying, the usual grin on his face, though it seems more sullen than anything. 

"You gotta be pretty good... to juggle both your father's expectations and the volleyball team, right" Mika says softly. "Not to mention Ouran's sports programs ranks within the top three in the prefecture. I could never understand for the life of me why you were so focused on clubs and business but after talking to Kuroo I realized... you can be pretty damn cool."

Then she sighs and turns around to meet Daishou in the eye. "Friends? But this time, I want you to  _talk_ to me, to let me know how you feel without having to guess it myself. And if that works out maybe we can..."

"...Fair enough," he smirks, holding out his hand. "Actually, would you care to join me in this last dance, Mika-chan?"

She coyly smirks back, and eyes shining with mischievousness.  "I'd _lo_ _ve_ to."

__

"And tonights title of Best Dancer goes to Mika-chan, who will get a kiss on the cheek from Akaashi Keiji!" Booms Oikawa's voice around the courtyard. 

Keiji tugs at their tie uncomfortably, having just changed back into their original suit. They hope Mika and Daishou have worked their issues out - which is strange, because they just  _met_ the two of them only a week ago, and yet they're so invested. 

"Tell me again why I have to do this," Keiji mutters under their breath, just loud enough for the other hosts to hear when Oikawa hums into the microphone as an indicator to  _hurry up._

"Well cut your debt by one-third." 

Keiji sighs in defeat - that  _is_ a pretty good deal. "Since it's only on the cheek." 

They make their way down the stairs slowly, smiling kindly at Mika, who's tears have dried up. "Thanks a lot, Akaashi-san. Suguru told me about what you did." 

"Don't mention it," they say monotonously, sending Daishou a  _look,_ hoping that nobody  _else_ will judge them for dressing up like a girl. In their defense, it was for an acquaintance. A friend. Yes, a friend, at least Keiji hopes that's what they are now. "A kiss on the cheek to celebrate?"

"Go ahead," Daishou says, pushing Mika a bit closer.

They lean in, ghosting over Mika’s soft skin, before _something_ from the back pushes them forward and into _her mouth._

A large scream erupts from the crowd, and Keiji quickly pushes away, cheeks red and mind turning furiously. They turn around to be met with familiar white-and-black streaked hair and a guilty pair of golden eyes.

 _"Bokuto-san,"_ they say dangerously low under their breath. _“What-“_

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks, swinging his arms wildly. “Tsukki said this was probably your first kiss and… I wanted to…"

"You know what? I don't even want to know," Keiji sighs, turning to Mika and Daishou, the former obviously flustered, bowing in apology.

Of course, they're a bit pissed at Bokuto for how the day is ending. 

But when they see the end result, when they see what they did, what they  _all, the host club_ did, seeing Mika and Daishou  _truly_ smile with their eyes lit up, it brings a warm feeling to their chest. 

 _The host club exists to bring happiness to the girls!_ Bokuto had said.

And if that's the mindset everyone has, if that's the mindset that brings positive results like today, no matter how  _annoying,_ Keiji doesn't really mind, even if their first kiss was with another girl in a relationship(?).

Okay, maybe they  _do_ mind a bit - but not enough to regret any of their decisions.

 _Dear mother in heaven,_ they think.  _I can't believe I'm saying this, but being at the host club is actually... fun._

 _I might be enjoying myself a bit too much._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue guitar solo*  
> If anyone's wondering, I made it so when the POV isn't Akaashi, they refer to them as 'he' because nobody really knows their pronouns? And whoever's POV it's in, I use their given name. 
> 
> Thank you everyone so much for your support, I'll do my best to get out my next chapter asap! (though cram school runs from eight a.m to five p.m four days a week with homework... so sorry if it takes a while!) And please tell me if any characters seem OOC or if there are any mistakes! (although I left a few characters undeveloped on purpose because they were JUST introduced and all that). 
> 
> There wasn't a lot of Bokuaka in this chapter, sorry...! But the scene with Tsukishima and Akaashi was slightly inspired by this beautiful fic [Pyromania](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7271317/chapters/16510180)
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://allu-ria.tumblr.com)


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